


Sideways

by LJANdersen



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Timelines, Angst, Battle Couple, Biotics (Mass Effect), Canon-Typical Violence, Coercion, Dubious Consent (Attempt), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Missions, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Past Character Death, Pining, Plot, Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Mass Effect 3, Post-War, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Toxic relationship (not main), childhood illness, updates weekly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 199,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJANdersen/pseuds/LJANdersen
Summary: Shepard wakes up in bed with another man.  Her hair is cut and dyed.  She has scars she doesn’t remember getting.  Her home on the Pacific with Kaidan and their daughter doesn’t exist.  Instead of being hailed Human Councilor, everyone is calling her Admiral. Alliance Headquarters should be closed on holiday.  Now it's swarming in preparation for war, a war Shepard is on trial for starting.The line between friend and enemy has blurred.  Shepard doesn’t know which way to turn.  The one person she could always count on is now the last one willing to help.***Story is finished.  Posting one chapter a week.
Relationships: Garrus Vakarian/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard
Comments: 426
Kudos: 74





	1. Where the Heart Is (Part 1: Sideways)

**Author's Note:**

> ***This story is complete. I will post a chapter every week.***
> 
> This is a stand alone story. It takes place after my post-war story, [Burning Barriers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452457/chapters/41094200), but I wrote this story to be read independently. "Sideways" has its own plot. Any small details a new reader needs from the previous story is incorporated into the narrative.

**PART 1: SIDEWAYS**

In thirty-six hours, Shepard would lose her life. When she left the Citadel, she didn't know it had been her last day as Human Councilor. She stepped out of the shuttle onto the Pacific shore. In the distance, Avyn's sandcastle melted in the tide. A pair of footprints, one big and one small, trailed up to a house on the cliff.

For the last time, Shepard sprinted up the sandy slope and burst through the front door. Wine waited for her on the kitchen counter. It was the last time a familiar silhouette standing against the red sunset would be waiting for her on the deck.

Perhaps if she had known about the thirty-six hours, she would have done things differently. She wouldn’t have said those words to Kaidan. She never would have gone out into the storm. She would have held onto Kaidan and Avyn and never let go. But that’s not how time works. You can’t go backwards. You can only go forward 

And sometimes 

_Sideways._

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: Where the Heart Is**

“You’re sneaky.” Shepard slipped through the glass slider and threw her arms around Kaidan’s neck. 

The stemmed glass in her hand sloshed, and Kaidan plucked it quickly from her fingertips. He set it on the deck’s railing next to his own. Waves broke below the deck misting the air with sea salt.

He cupped her face in his hands. “Sorry I missed Bakara’s Council inauguration.” 

“You had another week in Kite’s Nest,” she said.

“I did. And then, I didn’t.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes. “When we talked last night, you were on Kontos Station.” 

“I didn’t say I was. I just didn’t say I wasn’t.”

“And _I’m_ the politician?” She couldn’t hold back the smile tickling her lips. “If you had time after stamping out the piracy ring to travel home, where’s your Spectre report? It’s not in my inbox.” 

“SEND. Right. Knew I forgot a step. Probably saved in my drafts.” He grinned, not sounding very sincere, and drew her face close enough they touched noses. “I was trying to surprise you. I felt bad leaving halfway through your Tuchanka tour. But I got in too late for Bakara’s ceremony, so I just came here. I let Anita go for the holiday and spent some time with Avyn.”

“She’s asleep?”

Kaidan’s grin deepened, and he nodded. Her pulse raced.

“Yep.” His hands dropped to her waist.

Garlic and meat flavored the air from the house’s open windows. The bottle of crystal wine they’d purchased as a curiosity on Tuchanka had been waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Already uncorked, it had an empty stemmed glass waiting beside it. Kaidan had a half-sipped glass of wine for himself resting on the railing. Wine, the ribs in the oven, the sunset . . . 

“This is a seduction, I see,” she said. 

Kaidan kneaded her waist with his fingertips, a goofy smile on his face. “You’re too early. The violinists haven’t shown up yet.”

“And the dozen roses? Where are they?”

“Two dozen. It’s been two weeks. Got to do it right.”

“Dozen per week, huh? That’s the going rate for a seduction?”

“Too many, I’m not playing hard to get. Not enough, and well . . . I want to be gotten.”

Shepard lifted an eyebrow. “So, this is your seduction?”

“Uh, right. I’m helping you out.” Kaidan laughed and pulled her against him. “It’s been two weeks. I’m going to be weak resisting your advances.”

“That so?” Shepard drew her fingers down his throat and splayed a palm on his chest.

“I give in.” 

“You are weak.”

“With you? Always. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He kissed her gently. Too gently. Shepard coiled her arms around his chest and used the balls of her feet for some real leverage. She pressed him against the railing, but his body didn’t melt against her. Instead, his muscles tensed. He turned his face away, breaking the kiss, and studied her with a pinched look.

“What’s the matter?” She stepped back, blood still throbbing inside her from the kiss.

He caught her arm and touched her cheek. The intense way he searched her eyes made her hair stand on end.

“What’s going on?” Shepard frowned.

“There’s something . . .” He turned his face to the side, concentrating. “Something feels wrong.”

“Wrong?” Shepard jerked away from him.

His hand dropped from her face, and he snapped out of his trance. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, but his eyes sharpened on her. “Are your biotics okay?”

“Of course.” 

She lifted a hand. Blue light lifted off her skin. Particles of biotic energy rolled over like granules of sands creating a solid barrier. She put a palm out to him. 

“Come here,” Shepard said.

Kaidan sighed, but pressed their palms together. He flared. His energy washed over her, dispersing into fine particles of energy and mixed into her barrier. Like shifting sand, their energies intermingled to the point she couldn’t sense what was him and what was her. The barrier extended over both of them. Shepard’s blood pumped harder and faster. Feeling him this way, their energies indistinguishable and complete, made her toes curl. 

Shepard pulled from deep inside her herself. Kaidan’s face scrunched, and his energy met her pressure with its own force. The energies compacted and hardened. It solidified into a galvanized shell, a nearly impenetrable barrier. Iron and carbon melded together to make steel. It required two biotics with the ability to diffuse energy into particles: strength, complement, skill. Twelve years since the war, and it had taken all of those twelve years to come to this point. Kaidan dropped his palm, and the barrier broke. 

“See,” Shepard said, letting the energy fade off her skin. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“No, something feels off. It feels like . . .” Kaidan gazed at the horizon in silence. His eyes snapped back to her. “It feels like a Mass Effect Shard. That crystal that powers the relays. When I’ve been close to one, it felt like this.” 

“Oh.” Shepard avoided his eyes and walked to the railing. “I, uh . . .There was an accident.”

“Accident?” He grabbed her shoulder.

“It was a few days ago, while I was still visiting Tuchanka. That damn mass relay Wrex told me about.”

“The dormant one? I thought you didn’t want to touch it.”

“I changed my mind. After what you said, I thought about it. You’re right. The vorcha have been punished enough since destroying the Mass Effect Shard in their relay. I still stand by what I said though. They sure as hell knew better than to mess with it. But you’re right. Five years. It’s enough time to pay.”

Kaidan didn’t speak. His eyes didn’t leave her face.

“You aren’t happy I came around?” Shepard asked.

“I want to know about the accident.”

“Nothing big. It just didn’t work out is all. I don’t even know what the hell went wrong. I tried to remove the Shard from the dormant relay, just like I did ten years ago. The Shard wouldn’t come loose from the beam. It just exploded. Shattered. Some particles must have gotten through my armor.”

“You did it alone? I said I’d help you.”

“I had Ambassador Mason.” Shepard squeezed Kaidan’s arm. “I know you said you’d help me, but the Kite’s Nest intel had come in and you left. Mason’s a biotic. With her, I thought I could do it. The krogan might not be willing forever. You know, how rare it is for a species to give up the location of a dormant relay. I thought I had the vorcha’s new Mass Effect Shard in the bag. Turned out, not.”

They held each other’s eyes, and the tension in Kaidan’s bicep eased.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said.

“Just have to find another way. I’ve agreed to help the vorcha on this, and I will.”

Kaidan stepped closer and combed his hand into her hair. “I’m proud you’re trying to help them.”

“Proud, huh?” 

“Sound paternal or something?” Kaidan’s lips twisted to the side.

“No.” Shepard grinned. “I’m glad I make you proud.”

“Well. You do.” He curled her hair around his fingers.

Shepard kissed up his jaw to his ear. “How long until the ribs are ready? I have a seduction to lock down.”

Kaidan turned his mouth to her ear. “Oh. I’m already locked down.”

Her skin tingled. She drew back and looked him in the eye. “Don’t wake Avyn with your pleas for mercy. I intend to have my way with you.”

“She’ll already be awake from me having my way _you_.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

Shepard grabbed his hand and towed him toward the house. Kaidan reached back for their glass resting on the railing and passed her the wine with a sly smile. They clinked their glasses. With a sip, he drew her close under his arm. They strolled into the house.

***

“A storm’s coming.” Shepard squinted out the kitchen window. The glass fogged from the pork roast steaming on the counter. 

Voices talked over each on the deck outside. After a month-long tour of Tuchanka commemorating Bakara’s admission to the Council, it was nice to be home. Eating ribs and drinking wine with Kaidan the night before had been a perfect start. Now it was a good evening to catch up with friends. 

“The forecast predicted it.” Rebecca sat at the kitchen island. Black tresses and olive skin, she looked just like Kaidan. In fact, she looked more like Kaidan than Kaidan’s own sister. The Alenko cousin aesthetic.

Kaidan passed around Shepard and plucked the forgotten meat thermometer from her fingers. He gave her a sideways smile, moved her aside, and punched the thermometer into the meaty center of the roast. The glass slider opened from the deck. A blast of ocean air came in with Miranda. 

She looked over her shoulder at James. “He did that while you and your XO were cornered on a lava field? Joker’s mad.”

“You just figuring that out now? Always thought you were some kind of genius. ” James came in with a beer in hand. “And what else were we gonna do? The seismic activity, star flaring out, the pirates regrouping. And it worked, didn’t it?”

“This time.” Rebecca twisted on the stool.

“‘C’mon, Bec.” James sighed.

“It was risky,” she said.

“Hey, learned from the best.” James motioned at Shepard.

“Ha. Don’t put this on me.”

A little voice came from the hall behind them. “Mom?”

Shepard and Rebecca’s faces both snapped to the hallway. It was Tailor, lighter-colored hair than her brother, but with the same Alenko coloring. 

“What?” Rebecca swiveled on her chair holding her big belly. “Stop fighting with your brother. I can hear you from here.”

“But Mom . . .”

“But Mom,” James echoed with a chuckle and squatted down next to her. “Avyn and Riley are having fun back there. You’re gonna hang out with us? We’re boring.”

“Dad . . .”

“Go, Tailor,” Rebecca said. “I’ll bring your homework up on the datapad. You can sit on the couch and work on that or go play. Just stop fighting.”

Tailor’s face scrunched, but she spun on her heels and marched back down the hallway. Smaller than your average kindergarten graduate and delicate-boned, her stomping had a comical angry pixie quality to it. 

“And we’re about to have three of them.” Rebacca rubbed a hand over her swollen belly.

Shepard worked the wine bottle’s cork out with a loud pop and poured a glass of wine. Rebecca gave her ice water a dull glance. 

Miranda eyed Rebecca cupping her stomach. “You heard about that transporter crash outside Vancouver, right?”

“We heard.” James snagged another bottle of beer off the counter.

“It leached into the atmosphere before it was contained,” Miranda said. “The storm system will bring it up the coast.”

“I heard it was pretty far south,” Rebecca said. “The projection said, even with the storm, it should take eight to ten hours to get this far. We’ll leave early.”

James twisted off his beer cap and gave Miranda a hesitant look. “Think we should go?”

Miranda squinted at the gray sunset, waves foaming into caps, and sky darkening. “No, we’re a fair distance north. Wouldn’t dawdle though.”

“Dawdle with those two crazies?” Rebecca laughed. “Be lucky to get through dinner before someone’s crying.”

“Tailor’s been muy sensitive lately.” James took a swig of beer. “Looked at her wrong when I got home. Tears.”

“You said, ‘Why’re you wearing that?’” Rebecca said. “New favorite scarf she found at the bottom of the closet.”

“It’s summer. A valid question.” James plopped down onto a stool next to Rebecca.

Miranda strolled to the hallway and sipped her glass of wine. Children’s voices yelled over each other from Avyn’s bedroom. There was enough laughter punctuating it Shepard relaxed against the counter. Kaidan put the roast back in the oven and washed the termometer.

“Is Avyn hiding from me?” Miranda wandered back to them.

“We all tried,” James said. 

“Tried to hide in the kid’s room?” Miranda gave him a skeptical look. 

“Sure, but Kaid told me to man up, put my Barbie down, and get out here to face you.” 

“That so, Kaidan?” Miranda looked over at Kaidan.

“It was a hard call. He hadn’t finished the braid. Then you rang.”

“Right.” Miranda smirked and patted Kaidan’s arm. 

James leaned forward in the stool. “So, why’re Garrus and Tali not here? Saw them yesterday at Bakara’s First Krogan Councilor shindig on the Citadel. Thought they might be here.”

“Council’s on holiday,” Shepard said. “Palavan’s Council Liaison had to ‘wrap stuff up first,’ or so I’m told. Tali got to the Citadel a few hours before the reception. They haven’t seen each other in two months. You can draw your own conclusion about what _stuff_ Garrus is really wrapping up.”

“Tali’s still homesteading on Rannoch?” Miranda swirled the red wine around her glass.

“For now. She burned out on politics with her quarian ambassador stint. The day Garrus gets burned out, too, I imagine they’ll both be homesteading on Rannoch. For now, it’s: Palavan, Rannoch, Citadel. Repeat.”

“What about when you get burned out on it?” James asked.

“On what?”

“Politics.” James put his elbows on the counter and concentrated on Shepard. “All the piracy and slave crime booming in the Transverse. Terminus System’s gone to hell. There’s stuff to do. You heard the Alliance is bringing Admiral Cicero back to HQ? Terminus System could’ve been a whole Alliance sector. Now they’re abandoning Orian Station. Guess it’s falling apart anyway, but crap, we’re running off like cowards. Run off by red sand dealers. The Alliance! Could sure use someone like you out there, you know?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” Shepard set her wine glass down with a thump.

Kaidan leaned back against the counter with crossed arms. 

“You really feel like talking gets anything done?” James looked genuinely curious.

“The Council is working on some changes,” Shepard said vaguely. 

She was sponsoring initiatives for more race representation on the Council, for more checks and balances, for galactic security measures. Like everything else she tried to do, it felt like being stuck in sap. She’d finally won a krogan councilor, but hell, it took forever. She’d bled every drop of blood from her body begging and strategizing that move. Almost a decade of work for one small win and nothing else to show. 

“Working on changes, huh?” James echoed. “Words and meetings. Not a lot of slave lords gonna answer to anything but a bullet, you know?”

Kaidan frowned at James. “There are bigger threats to the galaxy than petty crime lords in the Terminus System.”

“Yeah, but anyone can talk. For thousands of years they’ve been yammering in Council meetings. Nothin’ changes. But when Commander Shepard and the Normandy arrived? Krogan cured, homeworlds saved, enemy races friends. You rescued the Council how many times?”

“You did get a lot done,” Miranda allowed. 

“Different times,” Kaidan said.

Shepard took a sour gulp of wine. 

“Hey,” James pointed at her, “‘Cause you were out kicking ass, the reapers didn’t win. All these politicians' Council meetings and conflict resolution sit-downs didn’t do crap. It took the Normandy, some bullets, and Commander Shepard doing what she does best, which ain’t sitting in a chair. Action, not talk, gets stuff done.”

“You need both,” Kaidan said.

“Sure,” James allowed. “But anyone can do words. There’s only one Commander Shepard on the battlefield.”

“A lot’s been accomplished with the Council the last few years,” Kaidan said sharply. “Some change only happens with words. They’re just as valuable.”

“You really believe that, Lola?”

Kaidan turned to Shepard. “Where’s the parsley?”

“In the fridge,” Shepad said slowly.

“The gravy’s simmering. Maybe we should add it.”

James glanced between them then rubbed the back of his neck. Rebecca shot James a pointed look. 

“You know, Lola, hey.” He rocked back on the stool. “Nevermind that stuff. Glad you’re speaking up and, uh, pushing stuff through the Council or whatever.”

“But anyone can do that?” Shepard asked and handed Kaidan the parsley.

“I mean, I dunno, maybe not?” James said uncertainly but smiled.

***

The front door buzzed. Shepard stirred the chopped parsley into the simmering gravy and frowned over her shoulder toward the door. Everyone was already here: the Vegas, their twins, and Miranda. They were kilometers up the coast from the nearest neighbor.

“Were we going to do Avyn’s surveillance scan?” Miranda said, stepping in next to her, and turning on her Omni-Tool’s software.

“What?” Shepard said, distracted. “Sure. Probably good to get it out of the way. Just a second though.” She took a step toward the entryway, but Kaidan caught her arm.

“I’ve got it. You and Miranda can do Avyn’s scan.”

“Who is it?” Shepard asked, but he shrugged. His smile made her insides flutter, and she leaned into him with a whisper. “Is it your violinists?”

“Twenty-four hours late? Better get a free song.” His fingers strayed down the back of her arm, then he disappeared around the corner to the entryway. Shepard’s skin goosebumped in the trails left by his fingertips. 

Shepard turned and stumbled into Miranda. Miranda’s eyes flickered between her Omni-Tool screen and Shepard’s face. Her brow was furrowed.

“What?” Shepard said.

Miranda turned her Omni-Tool screen to Shepard. Bars bounced on the screen with various energy readings. Shepard shrugged.

“This reading is coming from you,” Miranda said. “I’m getting an effect field, but not an organically generated one. It can’t be your biotics.”

“Is it going to mess with scanning Avyn?” Shepard knew what it had to be. “It’s no big deal. I got doused in particles from a Mass Effect Shard that shattered. The extraction went bad. Ambassador Mason would probably bounce your readings around on the screen too.”

The furrow between Miranda’s eyes deepened. “Your skin’s seething with this weird activity, Shepard.”

Shepard rubbed her arm with a frown. “Is it dangerous?”

“I don’t know. Doubt there are any case studies to even look it up.”

“I’m not the first one to disrupt and shatter a Mass Effect Shard. The vorcha . . .”

“Doubt they were biotics.”

“That makes a difference?”

“It might. Your biotics could be stimulating the particles to give off an effect signature, because if you look at this graph compared to--”

The oven timer went off. The pork roast seeped juices as Shepard lifted it out of the oven. A savory mix of onion and garlic tickled her nose. She stuck the meat thermometer into the middle again.

“I better get the scan over.” Miranda strode down the hallway toward Avyn’s room. James was already going that way after hearing a bang and cry.

Rebecca studied Shepard with a slight frown. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Hmm?” Shepard tossed her oven mits on the counter.

“From my research on the relays, those particles should be harmless. We’ve used analytical modeling to simulate how the Mass Effect Shard powers the relay. It really doesn’t. It’s the relay’s electrical charge coupled with the relay’s innate biotic discharge. The Shard is the conduit for something, the shift, the jump, but it’s not reactive itself pe se. Those readings you’re giving off only indicate its energy presence. The particles will work their way out of your skin.”

“Hopefully. Tired of people getting worked up over it.”

“The signal looks attenuated. It’s probably already fractions less than what it was when you first got exposed.”

“It happened a couple of days ago.”

“A day or more, it’ll probably be undetectable.”

“Good.” 

The meat thermometer beeped. Shepard pulled it from the roast. She looked back toward the front door. Kaidan hadn’t returned from answering the door. Shepard wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and moved to the entryway. Voices spoke quietly but forcefully. Shepard rounded the corner.

“Liara?” Shepard said.

Liara faced Kaidan in the entry. Her back was ramrod straight and hands clasped tightly at her waist. Kaidan’s expression was neutral but his posture was tense. Shepard could see it in his shoulders.

“Liara, you came after all.” Shepard approached them.

When she saw Liara on the Citadel after Bakara’s reception, she had invited her to dinner. Shepard hadn’t expected her to come. Liara had noncommittally acknowledged the invitation, like she did all of Shepard’s invitations over the last ten years. Liara never came. Never came until now.

“Hello, Shepard.” Liara turned to her. “You told me James and Miranda would be here for dinner. I didn’t know . . .” She glanced sideways at Kaidan. “You didn’t tell me the whole family was home. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Kaidan studied Liara’s profile with a pensive expression. Rumors about the Shadow Broker’s shady dealings were at fever pitch. That could be the cause of the awkwards, or perhaps it was the history between them. Liara and Kaidan had been close once. 

Kaidan glanced between them. Without a word he turned down the hall, a rigid set to his shoulders and clipped pace to his footsteps. Liara watched him go with a frown. 

“You’re not interrupting at all.” Shepard came to Liara with a smile. “Hear that wailing? James and Becca are definitely here. Miranda too.”

“Wailing?” Liara echoed and gazed past Shepard warily.

“Not James and Becca. The kids.” Shepard waved dismissively. “I know I told you we’d lock them up, but probably not until after we feed them.”

“I thought you were joking.”

“I am. I just meant --” A loud cry made Shepard’s senses sharpen. “That’s Avyn. Must be Miranda and the scan.”

“Avyn?” Liara said perking up. “Your daughter?”

Shepard laughed. “Yeah, the one you never come see.”

“I’m busy.”

“Your all-consuming Shadow Brokering, I know. I know too much.”

Liara’s face darkened. “Are you referring to that Council intel?”

“Quiet,” Shepard said quickly and lowered her voice. “Don’t worry about that. You already explained yourself when we talked on the Citadel. That’s good enough. Let’s just move past it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Liara said hesitantly. “You believe me then?”

“Of course. But let’s not talk about it here. Come on. Let’s see everyone.”

“Very well.” Liara wrung her hands and gave a tight smile. 

Shepard led her into the kitchen. Rebecca was still sitting at the counter, sipping her glass of ice water. She saw Liara and straightened in her seat.

Liara leaned into Shepard’s ear. “This is the mass relay scientist whom James married? She’s also Kaidan’s relative?”

“You need to come around more.” Shepard chuckled and urged Liara through the kitchen. “Don’t tell me you need introduced to James and Miranda too.”

“Of course not,” Liara said, almost indignant. 

Shepard motioned between Rebecca and Liara. “Rebecca Vega, this is Liara--” Something slammed into Shepard from behind. Skinny arms constricted Shepard’s waist.

“Mom! No!”

“Avyn,” Shepard grumbled and unlocked the olive-toned fingers deathgripping her waist. 

“Mom! Pleeeease.”

Shepard twisted around in Avyn’s loosened hold. Dark eyes pleaded up at her. Eight years old, she was already chest-height on Shepard. Shepard brushed the thick tangle of short curls back from Avyn’s forehead and gave her a firm look. 

“Did you let Miranda do your scan?”

Kaidan stood in the hallway with a hard expression. He’d probably been left in Avyn’s wake when she ran from Miranda into the kitchen.

“I told her later,” Avyn said. “She won’t listen! I don’t want it right now.” 

“Later? She’s the adult.”

“Why’s that matter? I have rights too.”

“Rights?” Shepard said testily. “And, of course, it matters.” 

It always went this way. Avyn was constantly testing the electric fence to find a weak spot and push the limits. 

“If not for Miranda, you’d be sick. You will do what she says.”

A faint corona of biotic energy lifted on Avyn’s skin, sparked by agitation. It tingled against Shepard’s touch. Avyn’s biotics came at a cost. As biotics, Shepard and Kaidan had beaten the odds. Their daughter hadn’t. But after years of brain surgeries, experimental drug trials, and novel treatment strategies: the tumor was gone. A second-generation human biotic with brain cancer had never lived this long. It was all due to Miranda’s research. 

“I’m not sick anymore.” Avyn shoved Shepard away and stumbled back with a frown. “I don’t need any more scans. I said ‘later,’ so you’ll do it later.”

Kaidan inhaled sharply. He crossed the dining room so fast Avyn’s eyes expanded like overinflated balloons.

“Does the scan hurt the child?” Liara asked in a whisper. 

“No,” Shepard said.

Avyn shrank under Kaidan’s shadow looming behind her.

“I’m sorry!” She blurted.

“Are you really?” Shepard put her hands on her hips.

Avyn’s mouth opened and closed. 

“Well?” Shepard prompted.

“No! But I don’t want to be in trouble.”

Kaidan’s mouth tightened into a thin line, and he took her arm. “Hey.”

“No! No!” Her lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I mean it! I mean it now.”

“Too late. You want to go with your dad or me?” Shepard stepped toward her. Avyn jerked back from Shepard and pressed against her dad.

“Come on.” Kaidan’s hand slipped down her arm and held her hand. 

“How come, you say I can’t lie, but when I don’t lie, then I get in trouble.”

“Because it shouldn’t be a lie,” Kaidan said tiredly and tugged on her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Mom! Pleeeeease.”

“Go.”

Kaidan towed her toward the hall. Tears bubbled in her eyes, face drooped to the floor, and her steps had a purposeful stomp. Kaidan said something to her Shepard couldn’t hear. A wet jumble of fake-sounding sorries poured out of her and her footsteps turned feathery. 

James pushed Riley and Tailor out of the hallway. The six year olds craned their necks watching Avyn in her prisoner’s march past them. Miranda came from around James, arms crossed, and shaking her head at the uproar. 

“Uh, sorry about that,” Shepard to everyone. “Food’s ready. Let’s get ready for dinner.”

Liara greeted James and Miranda in a hesitant way. She fidgeted absently with an opal-looking ring on her finger, shifting foot to foot, and looking out of place. Her eyes strayed to the hallway in a sharply focused, curious way. Shepard crossed the kitchen and threw open the cupboard. Rebecca directed Tailor and Riley to help with setting the dishes.

“On the main dining table,” Shepard said, handing them plates.

“Okay. Thank you.” Tailor took the plates carefully and moved to the table. Riley took his grudgingly but did as told.

Shepard laughed incredulously and looked at Rebecca. “Novel. A thanks and they’re off to do it. No ‘why the dining table and not the counter?’ ‘Where exactly on the table should this go?’ ‘Why not put it here instead?’ ‘Why a plate? We need bowls.’ ‘We should do silverware first.’ None of that. Just a thank you. Amazing. Trade?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Only if it’s a two for one switch.”

“No deal,” James said in a rush coming up behind Rebecca.

“Miranda?” Shepard offered. 

“Funny, Shepard.” Miranda scrolled through a screen of data on her Omni-Tool. “I’ll need a better scan. She ran away in the middle of it.”

“What about you, Liara? You can take her as a party favor. We won’t even need visitation rights. Well . . . maybe after the first week.” 

Avyn’s high-pitched voice wailed down the hall, something about seeing Riley before he left. Shepard drew in a deep breath. 

“Maybe a month,” she amended.

*** 

“Sorry about earlier. Politician stuff,” James said to Shepard. 

They stood alone in the entryway. He had the twins’ coats packed under his arm, while Rebecca wrangled the kids in Avyn’s bedroom. Everyone else had wandered from the dining room onto the porch.

“Political stuff is fine.” Shepard shrugged. “I wonder how much words are worth myself sometimes. How’d they taste at dinner, by the way?”

“Eatin’ my words? Lola. C’mon. No way I’m believing that about the shuttle.”

“When I find my leather satchel with the datapad, I’m sending you the vid. I flew that krogan shuttle through the Tuchanka parade like a master, Vega. By myself.”

“Like I say: Show me the proof.”

“Oh, you’ll get it.” Shepard glanced around them, then lowered her voice more seriously. “As far as the political stuff, you know, it’s just . . .”

“What?”

“Kaidan.”

“You and Kaidan are butting heads?” James shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“I’m always hearing the means don’t justify the ends. Don’t cut corners. There’s a right and wrong way, black and white. Gray may be more efficient, better, but that’s compromising.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“That Council’s Terminus Stimulus Package -- the one that’d keep the Alliance on Orian -- if I support it, the Alliance will support me on the Lower Council Proposition. None of the other Council races are supporting it. Get the Alliance and humanity championing it, it might get somewhere. But if I support the Terminus System, it would take credits from the Council’s Batarian Relocation Initiative.”

“Batarians? That’s no big deal.”

“The Council -- or, not the Council, me -- I don’t want them to become isolationists and criminals. If we support relocation, we can help them rebuild. Give them an embassy, build them from the ground up as part of the galactic community, and maybe they won’t all be thugs. I still support it, but it’s my initiative. I should be allowed to divert some of the funding. The Terminus System is a good cause, especially with the uptick in colony attacks.”

“What’s the problem then? What’s this got to do with . . .” James waved behind her in a vague way. He meant Kaidan.

“Kaidan doesn’t know about any of it. But he wouldn’t like funds going to the Terminus System while Admiral Cicero is there. He thinks the funds are being misused or something. No evidence. Adding to that, Kaidan won’t like the money being diverted from the Baratarian Initiative. In his eyes, I’d be breaking my promise to the batarian, and he doesn’t like backroom deals. He’d say I’m buying Alliances support in an underhanded way. Ultimately, it’s the Council’s business, not his, but I know he’ll disapprove if I do it.”

“There’d be a fight, huh?”

“He’d be disappointed in me.”

“Yeah, huh.” James shifted the coats in his arms and rubbed the back of his neck. “Tough spot, Lola.”

“Yeah.” Shepard folded her arms. “I’m tired of politics, James. My words don’t do anything. There are ways I _could_ get things done, but it’ll make my shoulder-angel’s wings droop. Probably start playing a dirge on his harp right in my ear.”

Riley’s boyish voice boomed from behind Shepard. “I don’t wanna go yet!” 

Rebecca struggled with a ninja turtle backpack in one hand and a tearful Tailor towed along with the other. James met her partway .

“Time to go home,” Rebecca said over Riley’s protests.

They got their coats on by the door. Tailor cried louder, and James had to manipulate her arms like a ragdoll to get them into the sleeves of her coat. Footsteps came up behind Shepard.

“Shepard.” Miranda’s voice made Shepard jump. It had an edge to it.

Shepard turned, but Rebecca caught her in a one-armed hug, awkwardly maneuvering to avoid her big belly. The Vegas left in a tornado of loud voices, crying, and Spanish curse words muttered under James’s breath. James pawed a good bye Shepard’s direction and shut the door.

“Shepard,” Miranda repeated.

Shepard sighed. “What’s Avyn doing now?” 

“In her room playing quietly. It’s not her.” Miranda tilted her head toward the kitchen. “You’re needed on deck. It’s Kaidan and Liara.”

“Kaidan and Liara?” Shepard frowned and pushed past Miranda.

***

Shepard could hear the raised voices before she reached the kitchen. Miranda literally did mean Shepard was needed on deck. They were outside. The glass slider was open, letting in salty air that carried the scent of a storm. Shepard stepped into the darkness outside.

“Over two million, Liara.” Kaidan’s voice cracked like a whip. “Fifteen percent of the entire population. Civilians, children.”

They were around the corner of the house. The castoff light from the dining room windows hid Kaidan’s face in angular shadows. His shoulders were bunched, arms crossed tight against his chest. Liara stood with her back against the railing. The harsh indoor light just grazed her toes.

“I didn’t kill them,” she hissed.

“So if I shot someone, it wouldn’t be my fault? It’s the blood loss that killed him, not my bullet. He could have dodged faster, should have brought Medigel. It’s not my fault.”

“You’re being asinine.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Shepard roared coming over to them.

Kaidan didn’t even glance at Shepard. His eyes were on Liara. “The strongest advocates for reunification were on the Nostrus when it exploded. And on the Quincer Ra, Admirals from both sides were signing a cease fire. Over half the quarian population -- half! -- lived on the flotilla. That’s not to mention how many million died prolonging the civil war? And, for what? Credits? All the credits in the galaxy wouldn’t mop up that much blood.”

Liara’s voice sharpened. “The Shadow Broker doesn’t discriminate clientele. It’s capitalism and fair trade, Kaidan.”

“Didn’t know capitalism extended to your soul.”

“Kaidan!” Shepard grabbed his arm roughly. “Dammit. What’s going on?”

Liara’s icy glare crystallised the air, but it was a poor match to the brimstone inferno pointed back at her. Kaidan ripped his arm out of Shepard’s grasp. He still hadn’t looked at her.

“And the Alliance colonies?” Kaidan stepped toward Liara. “Los Testero? Bayollona? Copper Stone? I can name more.”

“I haven’t admitted to anything.” Liara’s eyes flashed with challenge. “You ask, because you don’t know.”

“Deny it,” he said through his teeth.

“Kaidan!” Shepard tore him backward by the arm, enough that he stumbled. Shepard angled between them. “Liara denied any connection to that.”

“The Shadow Broker rumors? You already asked her? When?” Kaidan finally met Shepard’s eyes.

“If you didn’t believe the leak to be true, Shepard,” Liara said coolly at her back. “Why share it? Kaidan’s clearly not of your same opinion.”

“Leak?” Kaidan repeated slowly. “What leak? I thought it was just a rumor.”

Shepard’s insides shrank, but she kept her chin high and stared him hard in the eye. 

Liara looked between them. “Then you didn’t tell him about the . . . Oh.”

“What leak?” Kaidan repeated and faced Shepard. 

“Documents related to the Shadow Broker were received by Council Intel.”

“I didn’t see any intel come through.”

“It wasn’t for a Spectre. It was for me,” Shepard said sharply.

“You or the Council?” 

“For the Human Councilor. I decide what is relevant and reliable enough to share with the whole Council.” She almost didn’t say it, but the heat stirring in his expression provoked her. “I’m not answerable to a Spectre.”

The fire left his eyes. He pulled his arm away and stepped back from her.

“Didn’t know I was just a Spectre,” he said softly. 

“I’m just saying, it’s my call. If you needed to know, I’d have told you. Trust my decision. Liara denied what I read. There’s no reason to spread misinformation.”

Liara’s eyes averted to the ocean. She didn’t speak, even as Shepard waited. 

“Liara?”

“It’s misinformation,” Liara agreed.

“Lying,” Kaidan said without emotion. “She’s giving you plausible deniability. If it comes out you suppressed that level of information meant for the Council you’ll lose your seat. Hope it’s worth saving a murderer.”

Kaidan strode away. He disappeared into the house leaving Liara and Shepard alone in the dark. Shepard clenched her jaw and turned away from the door. 

“You’re being straight with me, right, Liara?”

Liara stared after Kaidan’s retreat. “Shepard, I’m sorry. I thought he knew about the leak. I didn’t mean to disrupt anything between you and Kaidan.”

“Kaidan?” She resisted the creeping urge to look back at the door where he’d disappeared. “Don’t worry about it, Liara. We have this same conversation over and over again. We’re about due anyway.”

“What conversation?” Liara’s eyes shifted back to the house. “I’m sorry, Shepard. He must have only been going off the rumors when he asked me.”

“It’s not your fault.” Shepard folded her arms on the deck’s railing. “Sometimes, like I said, he needs a reminder. He doesn’t need to know every last, damned detail of everything, and I certainly don’t need guilted and force-fed advice all the time. I made decisions, good decisions, long before there was a Kaidan standing behind me telling me what to do.”

“Kaidan. It’s been a long time since I . . . I didn’t realize he became so controlling.”

“Not controlling,” Shepard gave a grim chuckle. “Not that. It’s just, even when he’s not saying anything, I imagine what he’ll say.”

“He’s angry at me now.”

“Damn hard to measure up. Believe me.” Shepard took a deep breath of ocean, then flashed Liara a tight smile. “Forget it. Let him simmer a bit. It will all be fine next time he sees you.” 

“I don’t know. He believes I caused the death of millions, that I sold the Rannoch quarians the flotilla reactor codes. That I gave Terminus System slavers information on Alliance colonies.”

“But you didn’t do any of that,” Shepard said firmly “You denied it. That’s good enough for me. Let’s go inside.”

Storm clouds rolled overhead in the rising wind. Shepard led Liara into the house. Miranda was on the living room’s couch reading her Omni-Tool. She lowered it with a grimace 

“Ambassador Mason is missing from the Alliance Banquet in Vancouver.”

“What?” Shepard said, pulling her attention away from the bedroom at the end of the hall. A trail of smoke may as well be leading to it. “Ambassador Mason? She was just with me in Tuchanka. She tried to help me get a Mass Effect Shard from their dormant relay. She’s missing?”

Liara checked her Omni-Tool as if to verify. “She’s humanity’s first ambassador to Tuchanka, correct? I imagine she has enemies.” 

“Disappeared in the middle of festivities,” Miranda said. “Security is tight at those functions.”

“She’s probably just in the backroom somewhere,” Shepard said tiredly. “They’ll find her. Anyone up for a night cap?”

The bedroom door drew her eyes again. She wasn’t in any hurry to turn in for the night. Liara and Miranda followed her to the kitchen.

***

Shepard watched Miranda get into her shuttle and watched it disappear in the direction of Vancouver. Reluctantly, Shepard turned down the hallway to the bedrooms She stopped at Avyn’s door long enough to see her sleeping peacefully, dark curls on her pillow and covers pulled to her chin. Outside the window, the storm was growing. Avyn had always been afraid of lightning. Hopefully, she’d sleep through the storm. 

Shepard stopped outside her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she punched the button. Kaidan sat against the headboard dressed in black linen pants, his legs stretched across the covers, and crossed at the ankles. He looked up from a datapad. 

“Have you pouted in your room long enough?” Shepard said briskly and crossed the room to their closet. “Avyn being chased with Miranda’s scanner acted better.”

It was silent outside the closet door. She kicked her sandals into the corner of the closet and peeled her shirt over her head. By the time she tied the cord on her shorts and stepped out, Kaidan was waiting for her. He stood at the foot of the bed, expression guarded, datapad dangling loosely from his fingertips.

“Well?” Shepard dug through a drawer of her bureau and eyed him in the mirror on the wall. 

“I could have handled it better,” he said softly.

Shepard balanced on one foot and slipped on each ankle sock. “That easy, huh?”

“I don’t want to fight.” He tossed his datapad on the bed and padded over to her. “But I think you made a bad decision.”

“ _‘I don’t want to fight. You made the wrong decision_ ’? That’s kind of like, ‘I don’t want a drink. Hey, pour me a glass of water.’”

“Does it have to be a fight? Can’t we talk about this?”

“Sure. Just don’t be surprised when I swing back.” Shepard pushed around him and threw the window open. Wind hummed through the screen. Below the window, grass tapped against the house’s foundation in the rhythm of sprinkling rain. The air chilled her skin. Warm fingers curled around her hand.

“Big storm system,” Kaidan said.

They stared out the window. Wind drove the rain through the screen, spraying into their faces like a mist. 

“Liara said it isn’t true,” Shepard said, at last, and looked over up at him. “Wherever those quarians got the reactor codes to destroy the flotilla, it wasn’t the Shadow Broker.”

The wind rustled Kaidan’s hair as he gazed forward out the window. He didn’t say anything.

“Information on the Alliance colonies too,” Shepard added. “She wouldn’t give that to slavers. And Ambassador Patel’s assassination, the missing convoy, the massacre on Yem: she’s not involved.” 

She tugged on his hand for a response. He looked over at her with soft eyes. 

“I know that’s what you want to believe,” he said in a low voice. “I do too.”

“Then believe it when she says it. Stop looking for a reason to be holier-than-thou.”

He sighed tiredly and slid the window shut. “What’s this really about?”

“It’s hot in here,” she snapped and reached around him to the window.

“It’s not that hot. Come on.” He caught her wrists. “What’s going on?”

Shepard gave a sharp twist and broke through his fingers. She stepped back from him. Kaidan frowned.

“It’s what James said.” Kaidan studied her. “You’re frustrated with the Council’s resistance to your initiatives, but you’ve accomplished more than you give yourself credit for. You pushed for a krogan Councilor. That happened. By itself, that’s amazing for a Councilor’s term.”

“It took eight years to get that.”

“Eight years for a new Council race? The time before that, it was a thousand years. I know it feels like a snail’s pace, but to them, to the rest of the galaxy, the pace is break-neck. Everything you want to accomplish for the galaxy, do you really think you’d get it with a gun?”

“If I didn’t feel so contained by black and white morality, then, hell yeah. Kick down some doors, wave the barrel of incentive in a few faces. Stop worrying about stepping on the mome raths. If I could just followed my gut instead of the little voice telling me ‘no.’”

“My voice?” Kaidan said flatly.

“I used to get things done. Now I do nothing.”

“And you blame me?” Kaidan folded his arms.

“No,” Shepard said quickly, but Kaidan’s brow only indented deeper. “It’s just, I got a lot done with a gun and a starship. The quarians and geth, turians and krogan, Saren, the Collectors.”

“The Reapers were breathing down our necks then. It’s different now. There’s time to think and weigh the decisions.”

“I didn’t need time to weigh those decisions then, and they turned out to be right.” Shepard moved past him to the window. “I wasn’t held back.”

“Like you’re held back now?” Kaidan’s voice had a rough edge.

“Yes, like I’m held back now.” 

Shepard slammed the window open. A gust of stormy air lifted the curtains around her face. She pushed them down and turned to face the storminess in Kaidan’s face.

“What?” She lifted her arms out. “Just saying it like it is.”

“And what is it holding you back from getting so much done? From cleaning up the galaxy?”

Words burned on the tip of her tongue like readied acid, but he was looking at her, waiting. She pushed down the urge to say it.

“Paperwork. Politics. Protocol,” she said instead. Her muscles, coiled for a fight, released like useless, flaccid tissue. Disappointment crept into her. She had an incendiary, but she’d taken the bucket of water instead. That voice holding her back, even in this.

“No,” Kaidan said firmly. He never let things go. “You think it’s me.” 

“Stop filling in my words,” Shepard snapped, a pinch of dynamite.

“You can’t get your adrenaline rush from the Council Chamber, like you used to on the battlefield, so you want to fight here.” Kaidan searched her face and his eyes softened. “You’re lying to yourself. You don’t want to see Liara for who she is now. You won’t acknowledge your achievements with the Council. You’re too hell bent on reaching your next goal to appreciate the wins behind you. Nothing’s ever fast enough, good enough, not compared to what you did in the past.”

“And you, Kaidan?” Shepard hissed. “What about you?” 

“I want to help you.” He touched his temple and squinted at the light behind her.

“If I lie to myself, so do you.” She stalked up to him. “Everything’s perfect. That’s your lie, Kaidan.” 

“Life’s not perfect.”

The cliche made her smirk. “How do you know? Another choice, maybe things would be perfect. You’d be happier.”

“I wouldn’t be.”

“Talking about me being held back, I’ve held you back. There’s so much more you could have done than Spectre missions. Imagine if you’d stayed in the Alliance. I think you know you could have done more. So, now, your legacy is telling me how to make the galaxy a better place. You could have gone so far, Kaidan.”

“I went far enough. I have all I want. The only thing I want, and don’t have, is for you to have the same thing.”

“And that’s your lie, Kaidan. You tell yourself everything is perfect so you don’t feel dissatisfied. The thing is, it will never be perfect. I will never be perfect. I’m not controllable like aptitude scores, biotic maneuvers, and physical condition. I’ll never be what you want me to be.”

“What? That’s not true.” Kaidan’s voice broke. “You don’t have to be anything for me. You never have. This is all I want. All I’ve ever wanted. I’m not forcing perfection. I don’t care what decisions you make, I’ll still love you. You’re the deepest part of me.” Kaidan massaged his temple, expression stricken, eyes bleary. 

“Listen.” Shepard moved to the bathroom. She filled a glass with water and fumbled through the medicine cabinet. She returned with an amber-colored bottle. “Listen, Kaidan, I’m not saying I have to earn your love or something. It would just be nice to not be force-fed advice, buried alive under ‘Why didn’t you tell me’s’ and “You should’ or ‘shouldn’t’s.’” 

She shoved the glass of water at him. He took it numbly. She tapped two green capsules into his other palm then snapped the bottle closed. 

“You don’t need to know everything I know, Kaidan. And I’ll ask if I want your advice. I won’t be forced into being someone I’m not just to give you a sense of purpose.” She returned the bottle to the bathroom.

She rested sideways against the doorframe. Kaidan placed the pills into his mouth and slowly drank the water, watching her over the rim of the glass. The gingerly way he had laid the pills on his tongue and the slow tip of his head as he drank the water indicated his headache was already bad. She snapped off the bright overhead light in the bathroom. 

When he was done, he held the empty glass in his fingertips and gazed at her. Pain gleamed in his eyes. The storm fluttered the curtains beside them. The faucet dripped behind her. Shepard waited. Kaidan tapped the glass down on the nightstand and moved to the door.

“Done?” Shepard asked. “I’ve shattered your illusion of a perfect life enough for one night? Wounded your ego by saying I don’t need your help.”

Kaidan stopped at the bedroom door. “I never said my life was perfect. I said I don’t want anything else, and I don’t. I don’t want it to be perfect. I just want you. And I want Avyn. I want a home for us and something good left for us to do for the galaxy. I have that. You can figure out what it is you’re missing.” He left.

***

Shepard woke to the storm. Her eyelids slit open to the walls flashing with lightning. Rumbles echoed overhead. She tried settling into the blankets and squeezed her eyes shut, but her hand strayed to the cold spot next to her in bed. The room exploded in light. The thunderclap shook the glass in the windows and made her sit up sharply. Rain roared, and air howled over the roof. Beside her, pussy willow branches rapped a glowing blue reflection in the glass.. 

“What the hell?” She kicked off the covers. Her skin glowed with biotic energy, flaring in concert with the lightning flashes outside the window. 

She shot to the door. The hallway flickered with her glowing skin as if she was carrying a candle. Kaidan wasn’t on the living room couch. Two throw pillows were stacked on one end of the couch with a discernible head-sized indent, but there wasn’t any other sign of him. 

He wasn’t in the kitchen, the dining room, or outside on the deck. The sea churned black, lightning flashing in the white caps on the waves. Shepard peered over the railing, wind whipping hair around her face, and squinted down the beach. It was too dark to see anything but shapes. The storm was sure to level that pillar of sand, Avyn’s sandcastle. Avyn’s sandcastle . . . Shepard froze. Her leather bag, the one she was missing. When she saw Avyn’s sandcastle on the beach, she had dropped her satchel by the driftwood fence. 

Waves soared and broke as the wind whipped. Static crackled the air, ocean misted her face, and a flash overhead shook the house with the boom. Her damned bag would be swept out to sea in a storm like this. Her datapad, all its sensitive and uncopied files, would be lost.

Shepard raced back to her room and tore a sweater off a closet hanger. She shot past Avyn’s doorway, sparing a glance as she passed, and stopped mid-step. She backed up. A constellation night light softly illuminated the room, slowly spinning blue stars across the walls. The window next to Avyn’s bed flickered with stormlight. Below it, slept Kaidan. 

He slouched sideways against Avyn’s bed with his head resting partially on her pillow. Avyn was sleeping next to him. Her arm was wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his hair. His hair rustled softly in time with the slow tip and fall of the stuffed bear against her chest. The thunderstorm must have scared her. Shepard felt a pang at Avyn not coming to her. Perhaps Kaidan had come to Avyn hearing in the living room crying through the open bedroom door. They slept peacefully, heads bowed together, purple starlight traveling over an indistinguishable mix of thick dark hair.

Another boom shook Shepard from her thoughts. Her leather satchel could hold the water off her delicate electronics for only so long. Shepard slipped past the Avyn’s door. Drawing her sweater tight, she went out the front door.

Rain and wind made her stagger back a step. She only needed to reach the end of the fenceline down to the beach, then she could scurry back. She pushed out into the wind. Her skin flared and tingled, almost like touching another biotic but not quite. It was the same odd sensation she got being near the core of a warship. It felt like eezo.. 

She followed the fence blindly. Water sopped down the back of her neck. Her bare feet shuffled through the wet sand, tripping over bits of driftwood and pine needles. The seasalt stirred up in the wind and choked her lungs. Lightning branched across the sky, and she stopped to stare. A white mist hung overhead like low clouds but too luminous. It wasn’t the sensation of eezo in the air. It was eezo in the air. Eezo from the transporter crash in Vancouver had hit the atmosphere. It must have finally worked its way up the coast. 

Shepard’s skin flared so bright her vision went white. Biotic energy exploded out of her as if drawn by a magnet. This wasn’t normal. It had to be the particles of the Mass Effect Shard embedded in her skin. Thunder rang in her ear. Light blinded every direction she looked. Her skin burned with dark energy. A jittery sensation crawled through her bones. Electricity hit her. It jolted through her body. She fell to her knees. Was that electricity from the storm? Damn the leather satchel. Let it go to sea. 

She clawed blindly at the sand, trying to find the fencepost. Her limbs went numb. The waves felt like they were crashing around her on all sides. Lightning and thunder overwhelmed her. Her vision and hearing was one white roar. Then everything went dark. 

* * *

Shepard lifted her face off the pillow. She blinked into the darkness. Her body ached like she’d been running for days. She pushed herself up in bed and squinted around the dark room. Curtain flared around the open windows to either side of the bed. Sea salt spritzed the air, like home, and lightning danced on the white walls. But she also heard the hum of skycars and skyscrapers glittered in the window in front of her. This must be a hotel room in the city.

The last thing she remembered was tripping blindly through the sand in the thunderstorm. She fell. Maybe she hurt herself. With head injuries, someone rarely remembered the actual event. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d awake to learn she’d been out for days or weeks from an injury. She wasn’t in the hospital, but she could have been too disarranged to remember the discharge and coming here. Wherever here was. If it was already late, Kaidan may have forgone the jostling shuttle ride home. He’d booked somewhere in town for them to recoup and sleep out the night.

Shepard smiled over at the soft breathing next to her. She fell back on her pillow, running her eyes along the shadowed outline of his naked back. After the harsh words she’d spoken to him, he was still here as always, caring for her, loving someone who wasn’t deserving of him. She scooted up against his back and felt his warmth on her cheek. Her arm froze halfway around his waist. He didn’t smell right. He smelled like sandalwood and cognac, not evergreens and fresh air off the ocean. 

Shepard jerked back from him. Her hand dragging across his waist, too thick and knotted to be Kaidan’s. This man’s skin was wrinklier and pale, and as her eyes had adjudgest to the darkness, she saw the tattoo on his neck: a sparrow. This wasn’t Kaidan.She scrambled out of bed, unable to catch her breath, tripping in the tangle of the sheets. The sheets rippled off her shoulders. Her heart shot into her throat. She was naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested, I'm on Tumblr: [LJAndersen](https://ljandersen.tumblr.com) . I enjoy interacting, even if it's just reblogging fanart from each other.


	2. Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for being so encouraging with the first chapter. It means a lot to see so many familiar faces show up for support. As many of you know, it's taken me a long time to write this story. Thanks for reading along!

**CHAPTER 2: Upside Down**

Shepard stood in the darkness of a stranger’s bedroom. The man in bed mumbled something intelligible and bunch the pillow tighter under his head. His face was still turned to the wall. Shepard fell to her knees and searched blindly for her clothes in the dark. She didn’t have her Omni-Tool on her hand to use for a light. It was a useless search. She slipped out of the room and slid the door shut. 

The apartment was a penthouse. An open space, the room was pure glass, the black ocean churning in one direction and urban lights sparkled outside the other. The sitting area had leather furniture with designer initials. Abstract paintings with real brushstrokes hung on the wall. A grand piano dominated the corner of the room, and the liquor behind the wet bar had yellowed labels and wax-sealed tops. The glass vases on the corner end table were slightly imperfect, likely hand blown. 

Shepard flicked on a lamp. Two snifter glasses stood dry on the table next to a decanter of amber liquor. The opposite end table had something dangling from its lamp shade. It was a lace bra! Shepard snatched it away sharply. The lamp teeter. She caught it by the base, and heart throbbing, and steadied it with shaky hands. 

With the lamp on, Shepard could make out other articles of clothing around the room. Her underwear was wadded against the far wall. Her pants were tossed across the marble counter in the kitchen. Beside it was a shirt, torn down the middle, and damp from the kitchen faucet dripping on its arm in the sink. She couldn’t find her last sock. 

She pulled on her clothes, black and simple. She didn’t remember owning them. She tried to piece together her torn shirt, but her fingertips were too numb. She needed a mirror. There was a bathroom off the sitting area. She flicked on the light and froze. 

“My hair,” she hissed and lifted a hand to the jagged cut. 

It was only as long as her chin and dyed jet black. The red was gone. Shepard backed away from the mirror. She couldn’t catch her breath. The world moved around her, and her head felt full of helium. She’d think about it later. She had to get out of here. She shot out of the bathroom. 

She stepped on something. It was squishy and damp. She looked down. Her blood went cold. A used condom. She slapped a hand over her mouth. Heat stung her eyes. She fell over her feet racing to the front door.

She exploded out into a glass-walled hallway. The landscape of city lights outside was familiar from this angle. The ocean cut a memorable shape in the shoreline of skyscrapers. This was Vancouver. Only, the lights from this height seemed too narrow to the ocean. The lights should stretch into the mountains. The storm must have created power outages.

She scrambled to the elevator and rode it down to the skycar landing pad outside the building. She stood in her bare feet, rain sprinkling on her head, and stared at the skycar console. She didn’t have her Omni-Tool or a credit chit to hire a shuttle up the coast. The platform terminal kept rejecting her credit number. Fine. She’d use public transportation with its designated skycar drop points. It could bring her somewhere within the city. She had a place in mind. 

A public skycar appeared in the distance. Shepard climbed into the cab. Her hands trembled punching in the address for Alliance HQ. She knew enough people there, someone would help book her a shuttle home. More than just needed help with the shuttle change, she needed to clean up first. She couldn’t go home like this. 

Shepard lowered her head between her knees and tried to catch her breath. She still smelled like him. Her clothes and skin reeked of a stranger’s sweat and the stench of liquor. Sandalwood burned her nose. The front of her shirt gaped open in front of her face, the upper row of buttons only a hanging trail of threads. Shepard squeezed her eyes shut.

She was never going to be able to explain this to Kaidan. She didn’t even remember it. She racked her memory but couldn’t remember going to a bar, meeting that man, any of it. She only remembered being out in the storm. If she couldn’t understand it herself, Kaidan never would. It would hurt him. 

She couldn’t believe she’d ever do it. Even drunk, the most drunk she could imagine, even after their fight, she never could have imagined she’d cheat on him. She sobbed into the heel of her hand and felt the bare skin at the base of her finger. She stared at her empty left hand. She’d taken her ring off. She had premeditated it then. A cry bubbled from her mouth. It had to be purposeful. She must have meant to sleep with the man from the beginning. Now she didn’t even know where to find her ring. Kaidan’s ring. She needed to talk to him right now. The skycar settled onto the platform outside HQ.

Shepard rubbed her nose roughly and hit the destination menu again. Her fingers shivering across the screen. She put in the address for the shuttle service they used on the north side of town. She’d ask to pay later. They knew who she was. Nothing came up with the search. Shepard punched it in again. Still nothing. Impossible. She didn’t feel drunk but perhaps she still was. Maybe her blackout had caused her to lose more than time. The skycar started to lift being summoned to another terminal somewhere. Shepard hit the door button and hopped out onto the platform outside HQ.

“Shepard.” A male voice called to her from across the platform.

A figure was coming from the main building. A group of officers mingling on the walkway snapped him a salute. HQ was unusually active for the middle of the night. Shepard clutched her shirt closed and squinted through the drizzle at the form. It was Admiral Hackett. 

Shepard stared harder at him to make sure, but it really was him. He was in uniform again. He strode through the puddles toward her with a thin-lipped smile and eyes hard as stone. The way he stopped and waited felt like the prompt for a salute. Mechanically, she unfolded one hand clutching the torn shirt to her chest and saluted him. It was apparently exactly what he’d been waiting for. His return salute was sharp and professional, if not a little detached. Both sides of his face grimaced, and his eyes moved over her in a smooth, coordinated way. He didn’t even look like he’d had the stroke.

“You look like hell,” he said. There wasn’t any slur to his words, like last time she’d seen him at the Home. “You left HQ? Risky. The inquest doesn’t have you under house arrest, but you shouldn’t leave the area.”

“Inquest?”

“You . . .” Hackett paused and eyed her. “The Admiral Board said you’d been informed and even released on bail pending the hearing. You’re aware of the rules surrounding this parole period?” 

“But . . .” Shepard grappled for words, still trying to catch her breath.

Dammit. The tears were still damp on her cheeks. No amount of blinking was cutting the burn welling in her eyes. She wiped her face roughly with the hand she’d used to salute. Hackett averted his eyes, but Shepard didn’t care him seeing. The idea of Kaidan’s face when she told him about this made her knees almost buckle.

“I’m sorry,” Shepard murmured, a hitch in her breathing. “I need to go.”

“Very well.” Hackett nodded. “It’s early. You’d best not let anyone discover you left the grounds. War planning has most of Parliament’s time, but it’s been mandated all the fleet admirals attend your hearing to give a full ruling. I shall see you then.”

War planning? Shepard stared after him as he moved to the skycar landing pad. A car was just landing. A woman in uniform hopped out of the cab, saluted Hackett, and turned to Shepard.

“Traynor?” Shepard peered at her. “What are you doing here? You’re in Alliance BDUs?”

Traynor sauntered to Shepard with a smile. “You and Admiral Hackett working late? I just got off duty at the base.”

“Base?”

Traynor’s eyes scanned down Shepard’s body. She clicked her tongue. “You look dreadful, Admiral.”

“Admiral?” Shepard nearly dropped the fistful of shirt knotted between her breasts.

“Where are your shoes and socks?” Traynor sniffed her. “Smells like hard spirits.”

“Traynor, I need help.” Shepard grabbed her arm with her free hand. “I need to get home. I lost my ‘Tool. Something happened to me.”

“I should say so. Too many rounds.” Traynor put her arm under Shepard’s shoulder, as if to provide support, and turned her toward the side entrance to HQ.

“I’m not drunk. I mean, not really. Not anymore. I can walk fine.”

She let Traynor drag her through the sliding doors. The hall was crowded with marines rushing different directions. The holographic reader boards flashed war updates. A vid looped on the screens, a scene of starships mobilizing around the new Arcturus station, only for a white light to take out the camera. The scene played out at different angles of the station and starships, but always the same, something bright obliterating the newsfeed. From one angle, Alliance cruisers could be seen retreating through the Charon relay to Sol before the flash. Shepard tried to brake Traynor’s pace. She craned her neck to watch the screen as they passed by them.

“What the hell’s going on? Is that Arcturus?” 

“This way.” Traynor cut down a dimmer hallway. 

The traffic noise of scurrying NCO’s and couriers running opposite directions with datapads drained away behind them. The live vids from ANN along the wall were left behind as well. Instead the screens on the wall had the static Alliance insignias broken up with the infrequent holographic recruitment poster.  _ Human Systems Alliance: The Galactic Leaders in Military Innovation and Security. _ Shepard curled her lip at that pompous assertion. 

Ahead of them, a hologram poster sparked on and off with broken pixels. There was no doubt as to the cause of the malfunction. The spray painted LIAR and the punched-in plaster behind the hologram spoke to vandals, not maintenance workers, being at fault. Vandalism inside Alliance HQ, where there was surveillance and in a high traffic hallway? Ballsy. So ballsy, it must have been done with real intent. They passed the poster, and the pixels solidified for a moment. Shepard’s breath caught. The hologram short circuited into starbursts of flashing pixels again. 

“Was that . . .” She wasn’t sure what to say. It was ridiculous, but for a second, the man staring out from the Alliance promotional poster had looked jarringly familiar. The cut to his shoulders, the sharp angle of his jaw, the intensity in his brown-eyed gaze . . . But then, it disappeared. She couldn’t be sure. She glanced behind them at the defaced poster as they continued down the hall. It was only pixels again.

“Here.” Traynor stopped outside the door to an apartment in the barracks. 

The door had gold numbering. Now Shepard was paying attention, the hall was relatively unpopulated and well lit. The doors were spaced far enough apart, the barrack quarters had to be quite large relative to most assigned housing inside HQ.

“These are the leadership barracks,” Shepard said and eyed Traynor.

Traynor wasn’t even Alliance. She hadn’t been for years. What was she doing in this area?

“Ha!” Traynor slipped out from under Shepard’s arm. “You  _ are  _ tipsy. Your walk is quite straight, very admirable. I recommend you sleep before your trial. Let the vapors dissipate a bit.”

“What?”

“Your quarters. I brought you home. The great Admiral Shepard needed my help.”

Before Shepard could ask another question, Traynor pressed Shepard’s thumb to the button on the door. The lock light switched to green, and the door slid open. Traynor pushed Shepard forward.

“Good luck with everything. I’m sure the truth will out.” Traynor paused, then added avoiding Shepard’s eyes. “I hope it turns out in your favor. Good night.”

“Traynor!” Shepard stepped back out into the hall.

“Later, Admiral.”

Traynor disappeared down the hall. Shepard turned back to the barrack apartment and stepped inside.

***

Shepard stood in the barrack quarters of an admiral. It wasn’t a studio apartment like she’d had after the war. These quarters had a bedroom down the hall, a separate kitchen, and a living room. The laundry folded on the coffee table in the living room had her favorite charcoal gray N7 sweatshirt. Her Palladium Star medal sat on the desk in a case. Her favorite brand of yogurt was in the refrigerator. Her favorite rice cake’s wrapper was in the garbage.

She peeked into the bedroom before switching the light on. It was empty. The comforter and sheets were crumpled at the bottom of the mattress. It wasn’t geometrically tucked in with military precision and laundry-fresh sheets, like she’d grown used to over the last ten years. 

The dresser drawers only had her clothes. The closet had Alliance uniforms, admiral level, and female cut. There was one toothbrush in the bathroom by the sink. The shower only had her shampoo and soap. She threw open the medicine cabinet and her stomach twisted. Just toothpaste, prophylactics, bandages, antimicrobial cream, and some rubber bands. She dug through it twice to make sure. There wasn’t an amber vial filled with green capsules for migraines. The only medication was Tyrcol, and she’d never heard of it. It had her name on the prescription label. She set it back and slammed the cabinet door shut.

She stumbled back into the bedroom and groped for the end of the bed. No toy spaceships had tripped on the floor. None of the bedroom outlets had a nightlight, and this was the only bed in the apartment. Avyn’s chocolate milk hadn’t been in the fridge. She nagged Shepard constantly when it ran out. 

A clock glowed on the nightstand next to the bed. It had the date. Today was the same night as the storm. That wasn’t possible.

***

The alarm woke her with a start. She lifted her head off the bed. For a moment, it felt like it had only been a dream, a nightmare. She strained to shut off the alarm clock, but it was further than she expected. She had fallen asleep on the end of the bed. The comforter smelled sour and needed launderied. Somewhere a ventilation was blowing on and off, a mockery of the steady rush of ocean waves. The sterile gray walls closed in around her. She knew she wasn’t home. 

She stood up sharply. The front of her shirt was still torn open and exposing the black lace of the bra beneath. She pulled the shirt over her head and threw it against the wall. Her skin felt sticky with dried sweat and stank of sandalwood. The taste of alcohol had dried in her mouth. 

She caught her reflection in the bedroom’s full length mirror. She ran fingers over her bicep, crisscrossed with scars but hardened. She was more muscled and toned than she had ever been. Her skin was pale and rough, like she spent time under dry, artificial lights instead of enjoying the humid Pacific sunshine. The band of skin on her left hand, where her ring should have been, should be indented and light-colored, but it was the same as any other finger. 

Shepard swung into the living room. There was a computer on the desk against the far wall. She scattered folded laundry vaulting over the coffee table to reach it. She punched on the computer terminal.

The screen lit up. “Hello, Admiral Shepard.” 

Shepard froze, hands hovering over the keyboard, and studied the terminal. “Are you an AI?”

“No. I am your VI assistant, Admiral. How may I help you today?”

“You can help me with whatever I need?”

“Within reason, of course.”

“Contact Kaidan Alenko. Connect me with his comm right now.”

She looked down at her bra. She didn’t care, but someone might be in the background of the call. She snatched a shirt off the floor.

“Fleet Admiral Kaidan Alenko, Human Systems Alliance?” the computer asked.

Shepard paused with the shirt half-way over her head. She blinked, thinking, and tugged the shirt down to her waist. “Yes. Yes, him.”

“I am sorry, Admiral. I do not have a personal contact number for the person you wish to contact. Would you like to send a written message to his Alliance email or have me contact his offices?”

“What?” Shepard bent over the terminal. “Bring up my contacts. My personal ones. Find him in there.”

“I am sorry. I have cross referenced your personal files. In the future, if you would like these to be initially excluded, please change settings. You can change settings now by saying, ‘Change search settings.’”

Shepard’s fingers whitened on the edge of the desk. This was all ridiculous. What had the computer said earlier? Kaidan, a Fleet Admiral? 

“What is my rank?” Shepard stood back from the desk.

“Rear Admiral Shepard, Human Systems Alliance, Council Spectre.”

“Status?”

“Suspended pending conduct inquiry.”

“Assignment?”

“Classified.”

“Stationed?”

“Classified.”

She was obviously in Vancouver, that much she knew.

“And Kaidan?”

“Please be more specific in your request.”

“Kaidan Alenko. What’s his status, assignment, stationing?”

“Fleet Admiral Alenko, Human Systems Alliance, Council Spectre. Active duty in good standing. Head of Terminus System Containment and Monitoring. Lead officer of the Alliance Biotics Division. Member of Parliament, commands the Sixteenth Sector Fleet. Currently stationed in the Terminus System, Orian Station, Quadrant Space.”

“And nothing on personal contact info?”

“Admiral Alenko’s personal residence is listed on his Alliance profile. It is accessible with your level three clearance privileges, but no comm contact information for that location is available.”

“I thought his personal residence was Orian Station. Can you connect me to the station?”

“Admiral Alenko is assigned to Orian Station. His personal residence off-base is Nos Lutius on the planet of Illium.”

“Illium?” Shepard frowned.

The front door chimed. Shepard checked her shirt was pulled all the way down and opened the front door. A youthful, freckled woman Shepard didn’t recognize saluted her. The girl’s eyes fell on Shepard’s clothing and her forehead wrinkled.

“Are you ready to go, Admiral?”

“Where?”

“Your inquest, ma’am.”

This inquest again. Shepard was tempted to ask more, but the snowy-skinned woman tugged her uniform smooth and eyed Shepard with a testy impatience.

“You’re here to escort me?”

“To put it kindly. Come with me, ma’am.”

Shepard gripped the edge of the door and studied the woman’s lapel chits.

“Listen, Lieutenant. Come back in ten. I’ll be ready then.”

“I was told to bring you now.”

“In ten.”

Shepard shut the door. She waited a second, but there weren’t any sounds of overriding the door. Shepard darted to her computer.

“Am I involved in an Alliance internal investigation of some sort?” she asked the computer.

“Classified.”

“What does my calendar say?”

“Disciplinary hearing at 0700. Parliament Hall, Alliance Leadership Wing.”

“Is the hearing on my calendar more than once?”

“It’s ongoing all week, Admiral.”

“Dammit. This is the first meeting?”

“Affirmative.”

Shepard sank onto the end of the couch. She was either insane and delusional or something had happened she didn’t understand. That lightning storm had been abnormal. It was the last thing she remembered before the world flipped upside down. For a moment, Shepard was back at home on the Pacific with the storm coming up the coast. Everyone sat around the table with dinner plates still smelling of roast and smeared with gravy.

_ Miranda looked across the table at Rebecca. “Are you still doing that theoretical work with the mass relays?” _

_ “Just got a journal acceptance.” _

_ “What work is that?” Liara sat primly. _

_ Rebecca twisted in her chair to face Liara. “You’ve heard the Theory of the Multiverse?” _

_ James rolled his eyes and rested an arm across the back of Rebecca’s chair. “Oh no. Here we go again.” _

_ “Rude.” Rebecca slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You realize how many times I’ve listened to your hanar pirate ring story?” _

_ “Whoa. Right there. Listen to yourself. Theory of the Multiverse versus Hanar Piracy Ring . . . They ain’t the same, Bec.” _

_ “Anyway . . .” Liara prodded. _

_ “Listen to your wife sometime, Vega,” Miranda said. “Might wake up whole parts of your brain you didn’t even know you had.” _

_ “Sounds like a seizure,” Kaidan said. _

_ “Right?” James waved a hand at him. “Thanks, Kaid. See: recipe for a coma.” _

_ “I would like to hear the theory.” Liara smoothed the napkin in her lap and glanced around at the faces. _

_ Shepard tipped back in her chair. “Let’s hear it, Becca. Put James in a coma. I have some ideas how to wake him up.” _

_ James narrowed his eyes. “Lola, you gonna--” _

_ “Will you give your wife the stage?” Miranda growled. _

_ “Please, continue,” Liara said. _

_ Rebecca gave James a dull look then turned back to the table. James chuckled and massaged the crook of her neck with his meaty hand. _

_ “The Theory of the Multiverse,” Rebecca said. She paused as if expecting another insertion, but James kissed her cheek and continued to knead her shoulder. “The Multiverse is an infinite spectrum of possible timelines. Each action, any small choice, has multiple outcomes. For instance, I pick up this glass. In some timeline, I’ve spilled it on myself. In another, I dropped it. In another, I never picked it up at all. Choices, consequences, variations of what could be. True infinity.” _

_ “This is what you’re publishing on?” Liara asked. _

_ “No.” Rebecca raised a finger. “Because I don’t believe it.” _

_ “It does seem a little fantastic,” Liara admitted. “Alternate timelines instead sounds like wishful thinking. Hope that in another universe you achieved all the things you missed out on.” Her eyes flickered to Kaidan. _

_ “Actually,” Rebecca said, “alternate timelines are what I’m publishing on, but they’re not infinite.” _

_ “What do you mean?” Liara’s eyes shifted back to Rebecca. _

_ “I mean, not every choice matters. Most lifetimes never have a choice that matters.” _

_ “And here we go,” James said and squeezed Rebecca’s shoulder. “Let me set you up here. Question, Bec: How can you possibly know this? Why would they let you publish a make-believe theory?” _

_ “Good question, James,” Rebecca said. “I’m glad you asked.” _

_ Miranda rested her chin on a fist. “The Vega Show. Fantastic.” _

_ “How do you know?” Liara asked. “It can’t be possible to prove something like that.” _

_ “That’s where the mass relays come in. At the university, we have data archived over thousands of years. Recording from the earliest space-traveling asari. You see, the mass relays resonate with each other. The frequency between connected relays is strong, easily seen in the frequency recordings.” _

_ “I’ve seen the recordings.” Miranda lazily twisted her glass against the table with one finger and watched the wine slosh. “Astonishing you could make anything out with all that feedback static.” _

_ “But that’s not static.” Rebecca focused on her. “But you are right. It’s feedback. The relays have weaker resonating signals in the background. Each relay has a different frequency signal. Comparing paired relays and the background signal. The frequency creating the static is itself.” _

_ “What do you mean?” Kaidan sat forward in his chair, interested for the first time. “You’re saying the relay is getting a resonance signal from itself?” _

_ “Not itself,” Rebecca said. “Itselves. The same quantity of selves for each relay across the galaxy. We can’t determine the exact number of signals -- there are too many resonating together -- but it’s proportional among all the relays. The strength of the signal only ever increases, and it increases for all the relays to the same degree, at the same time.” _

_ Shepard frowned. “I don’t understand.” _

_ “I think I do,” Liara said, perking up higher in her seat. “You think there is a finite number of timelines. The relays are getting resonant frequencies from the other versions of themself in these other timelines.” _

_ “Ding, ding, ding.” James pointed at her. “Give the Doc a giant teddy bear.” _

_ “Teddy bear?” Liara’s brow wrinkled. _

_ Rebecca waved it away. “Don’t worry about him. But, yes, you’re right.” _

_ “So,” Miranda said slowly, “only certain choices matter to create a new timeline? How do you know which ones?” _

_ “I’m sure there’s an element of the choice’s gravity. Maybe the strength of the conflict between two choices causes the tear. That’s unknown. What is known is that it has to do with proximity to the relay. And it has to do with biotics.” _

_ “How’s that?” Kaidan asked. _

_ “It’s based off how the frequency signal expands. We can look back to the first asari. Every time a new race starts space travel, the signals surge in number. Over time, they steadily drop off in expansion. The chance of an expansion is proportional to the number of new individuals thought to be traveling at that time. It’s proportional to the biotic prevalence within that new species.” _

_ “So what are you saying?” Shepard said. “Every time a biotic travels through the relay, if there’s an important decision up in the air, it fractures the timeline?” _

_ “Traveling isn’t precisely required. We see the signal expand when a species with biotic capabilities finds a dormant relay. We think it has something to do with proximity to the Mass Effect Shard. The Shard’s potential to bend time and space is stronger the closer one is to the source. Perhaps the gravity of the choice needed to fracture the timeline decreases with increasing proximity to the distortion. At any rate, one would have to be very close for any of this to happen. Traveling is probably the most likely time.” _

_ Miranda pursed her lips. “Everytime a biotic passes through a relay, time splits?” _

_ “Now this is more theoretical, but these splits -- we call them nodes -- they can’t be initiated repeatedly for the same organic entities. That’s why we see the leveling off of frequency expansion after a time with a new race. If every biotic could repeatedly split the timeline multiple times, the frequency would only ever increase exponentially, but it doesn’t. There’s a surge proportional to new individuals traveling. With a new space-faring species this is a large surge, but then it flattens into a new galactic baseline of increasing signals. This number is more proportional to birth and deaths, advancing technology, or colonial expansion than just overall galactic traffic rates.  _

_ “The other surge we see, like I mentioned, is due to biotics within a race. There wasn’t an increase in frequency with humanity traveling the relays until biotics developed. The increase happened as the population of biotics increased and grew old enough to be traveling relays. As you can imagine, there was the dip in increasing signals as you would expect when new biotics stopped being born. Looking at the frequencies and populations, the expansions appear to be one split per one million individual’s lifetimes. That’s why I say being at the center of a nodal split happens once in an organic’s lifetime. The organic body can’t take more than that, if you’ve read Dr. Cada’s work. All organics throughout the galaxy do split, of course, when a node happens, but the ones at the center are touching the very source of time and space. Being at the origin of a nodal split only happens once per lifetime.”  _

_ Liara cocked her head. “Per lifetime? Then, if multiple organics were near the Shard when that single decision tore time, would that qualify as the single node for all their lifetimes? Even though the decision was primarily made by their leader, not them?” _

_ “Likely, yes. They’re all close to the source when the timeline splits. Their bodies won’t allow tearing the timeline again. They’ve met their lifetime dose, if you will. These nodes are rare. Biotics are relatively rare in the galaxy. A tear requires the right circumstances.” _

_ “Fascinating,” Liara said. “Could a ship travel between timelines using the relay, theoretically?” _

_ “No.” Rebecca smiled wistfully. “Wish it could. That would be interesting, but no. The ship is inanimate. It doesn’t have an alternate version of itself other timelines.” _

_ “What about a person?” Shepard asked. _

_ “A person? Well, the resonance is strongest between the two branches of a recent node. We call it the sister branch, because its resonance is so much stronger than the others. I suppose perhaps moving between two connected branches . . .“ Rebecca considered it and then shook her head. “No. Still impossible. The biotic lifeforms passing through a relay always stays in the correct timeline. The Shard itself is what bends time and space. It is what exists between the timelines, not the relay or the ship or the people inside a ship. So, no, there’s no moving between the timelines.” _

_ “So interesting,” Liara said. _

_ “You academic sorts would think so.” James sighed. “I think I need a drink. Kaid?” _

_ Kaidan shrugged and rested his elbows on the table. “This is interesting. The mechanics of the relay always intrigued me. We still don’t know much about them.” _

_ “Academic sorts and engineers.” James huffed and turned to Shepard. “Tell me you’re bored.” _

_ “The mass relays have changed since the Crucible’s energy fired through them,” Rebecca said. “The frequency expansion has stopped. Shards touched by the Crucible’s energy changed color. You know that?” _

_ Kaidan nodded. “I’d heard. From black to red. From what I’ve read, it doesn’t make a difference.” _

_ “Maybe not in traveling, but the Shard no longer bends time and space like it used to. Ships can still pass great distances, but something in that energy burst tainted the Shards changing them. After the taint, the relay Shards lost their background signal. They no longer resonate with themself in the other timelines. They’re blind. Almost no nodes have occurred since the Crucible fired.” _

_ “Almost, but still some?” Miranda asked. _

_ “The dormant relays’ Mass Effect Shards are untouched. They’re still black and untainted. The Shard in the Sol relay is black. Shepard retrieved it from an unfinished relay on Elliom. Sol’s original Shard had shattered when the Crucible fired. Sol and the dormant relays have the only untainted Shards that still resonate with themselves across timelines.” _

_ “So there have still been nodes?” Miranda asked.  _

_ “Only one. Ten years ago, two years after the Crucible tainted the relays, a node occurred. The time aligns with the Earth’s Summit. At the time, the Shard now in the Sol relay was on Earth.” _

_ “What caused it?” Shepard asked. _

_ “We don’t know.” _

_ “Do you study these black dormant Shards?” Miranda asked. _

_ “I wish I could. Dormant relays are rare. Very rare. If one is known in a colonized system, species hold that knowledge as a state secret. But I don’t think many dormant relays exist in the Milky Way anymore. Maybe Liara could say.” _

_ All eyes turned to Liara. _

_ Liara smiled. “Even with all my resources, I only know of one.” _

_ “One? That’s all?” Miranda frowned. “Shepard, you just visited a dormant relay a few weeks ago near Tuchanka.” _

_ “Krogan state secret,” Shepard said. “I suspect they know of one more, otherwise they wouldn’t have given me that one.” _

_ Liara caught Shepard’s glance. “That is not the relay I know of.” _

_ “No sharing?” Miranda said. “Becca could study it.” _

_ “There’s no studying this relay,” Liara said. “For more reasons than one. Dormant relays are rare enough that their location is almost priceless. With lost systems, like the vorcha’s, and the knowledge to weaponize the untainted Shards, the dormant relays are worth too much to share.” _

_ Miranda sipped from her glass. “Worth the try. Sorry, Becca.” _

_ “That’s all right. I can study the Sol relay, which has an untainted Shard. I have plenty to look at as is.” _

_ “Especially when you’re already looking after one set of twins,” Shepard said. “A few months perhaps it will be--” _

_ “No.” James pointed at her. “Stop with the double twin joke. It ain’t even funny.” _

_ Rebecca tapped his shoulder. “I think we should go. That storm is coming.” _

Shepard jerked back to reality. The Mass Effect Shard could be the answer. She had Shard particles embedded in her skin when the storm came. Ambassador Mason would have had them, too, since she was helping when the Shard shattered. She had gone missing the same night. Miranda had mentioned it. The timing was right. The storm hadn’t worked its way up the coast yet. It would have been in Vancouver at the time Mason disappeared. If true, this had something to do with a combination of the Shard dust and the lightning storm.

This was crazy. Even if the Shard particles and storm had something to do with her being here now, what was here? Rebecca had talked about mass relays connecting timelines. It was a possibility. An outrageous possibility, but it was better than believing herself insane or lost in a dream.

“You’re my assistant?” Shepard addressed the terminal.

“You may refer to me as Lexi.”

“Okay . . .” Shepard stood up. “Lexi. You can search the extranet?”

“Affirmative.”

“Are there reports, cases of . . . time travel?” 

Only, that wasn’t quite right. It was the same date and time as it would be at home. It was something different, more like a shift sideways. 

“Cancel that,” Shepard said. “Search parallel dimensions.”

***

Shepard showered so vigorously her skin was red afterward. Beads of water still ran down her arms as she shoved them into her admiral uniform. She had needed to shower quickly. The front door continued to buzz, and she tripped across the living room while trying to put on her heels. Even if it made her late, she couldn’t have gone another minute with that sandalwood sweat dried on her skin 

In the shower, she had found bruises on her upper arms like she’d been held in a vice. There was blood under her fingernails. The inside of her thighs ached. There was nothing to suggest she’d been assaulted, but it had been rough. Very rough. She didn’t want to think of it. 

Shepard stood in front of the closed door. It buzzed. She was dressed and ready but couldn’t bring herself to open the door. Lexi hadn’t returned much on parallel dimensions. What did pop up was useless fictional accounts and multiverse theorizing. 

Shepard put her hand on the door’s open button. If this was another reality, she was tempted to just throw it aside. She didn't need to go to a damned hearing. This wasn’t her life. None of this was real. Then again, she didn’t understand what was happening yet. She could be stuck here. Even being here a short time, it wouldn’t benefit her to appear to have gone off the rails. She would play along as she figured this out. No need to panic. 

Lieutenant Potters, the freckled woman from before, was at the door. She seemed ready to launch into a scolding, but Shepard pushed past her and motioned for her to lead the way. With a mirthless expression, Potters took the lead. An inquiry to Lexi had confirmed Potters didn’t work with Shepard aboard the Normandy. The only one good point about this place was learning she had the Normandy. 

The ceilings vaulted higher and windows became brighter and taller. It was obvious they were getting closer to the leadership wing. The brown floor tile changed to marble, and the building was starting to feel more familiar. The rest of the building had felt strange, too few aliens and too much marching and militarization. Undoubtedly, it had something to do with the ANN report and that bright flash over Arcturus Station. Hackett had mentioned war. Who the Alliance could be at war with was a mystery. Perhaps the reapers hadn’t been defeated in this timeline. A chill went up the back of Shepard’s neck.

“How’s the war?” Shepard asked lightly. She needed more information.

“The war you started, Admiral?” Potter scowled at her. “With the Arcturus System decimated and the krogan regrouping, I can’t say we’re in a very good position.”

“Krogan?” Shepard echoed.

“Their retaliation. Now, thanks to your other handiwork with the relay, we’re all stranded in Sol.” 

They slowed approaching the grand Parliamentary Hall. Shepard recognized it from many formal sessions addressing the admiral board as Human Councilor. The computer had told her there were twenty-one fleet admiral assignments, which was incorrect. Who knew how Parliament ran here, but in the real world, there was a finite number of fleet admiral positions, each representing a sector or fleet position within the Alliance. Parliament as a governing body was no longer elected as it had been before the war. It was made up of the admiralty board. As a councilor, Shepard found the system frustrating. The faces were stagnant and unanswerable. Though the number of seats on the admiral board was different according to Lexi, twenty-one versus a correct twenty, the fact the fleet admirals ruled Parliament was one sign the reapers had been defeated. The new Alliance bylaws and governing strategy had been born in post-war rebuilding. 

Two officers with rifles stood outside the side entrance meant for Shepard’s passage into the grand hall. Hell, this was serious, whatever it was. She was actually starting to sweat. Potters said something to the guards, they nodded at Shepard to continue past them. This seemed to be as far as Potters was going to escort her. 

“What do you know about this?” Shepard spun back to Potters. The woman was the only tie Shepard had, and she needed to know what to expect on the other side of the door.

“I am only escorting you, Admiral.” Potters hesitated then added. “For you sake, I hope it’s not what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” Shepard asked, but Potters was already backing away.

“Admiral, please,” one of the guards put a hand out to the door. “You’re already late. Parliament is waiting to be seated.”

Ah, the archaic power play where an underling was expected to wait on the king to come to his throne. Parliament did this to her even as Councilor. Having seated herself, she’d wait for the band of merry Fleet Admirals to appear and seat themselves in elevated rows. Despite the twenty seats of Parliament, those actually in attendance in Vancouver were usually few. Beyond the random sector fleet admiral in Sol for other reasons, it was only the fleet admirals assigned to mobile fleets and, of course, the loftiest fleet admiral position of all: the sector of Sol. 

Not only did the Sol fleet admiral oversee a geographic sector with a fleet, already more prestigious than being assigned to a mobile fleet, but that person ruled from the heart of the Alliance: Earth. It was like sitting the throne in Babylon. There wasn’t any official power advantage to the other seats, but it was understood to be the most influential and coveted position in Parliament. 

Hopefully, Fleet Admiral Wilson was as favorably disposed to her in this fake reality as he was to her as Councilor. She needed the fleet admiral of Sol on her side. He had the greatest clout in Parliament. It sounded like she’d need it. Shepard smoothed down the front of her uniform and lifted her chin high. She walked through the side entrance into the Parliamentary Grand Hall.

***

A double row of desks rose in a half-circle against the far wall. The Admiral Board had apparently tired of waiting for her and given up on their trumpeted entry. The far door beside the desks was already open with admiral uniforms starting to appear. 

A man in an Alliance court uniform crossed the open floor and greeted her. Bald as a pinball, his head looked too bulbous for his small frame. The stripes on his uniform showed experience, but not in action. He was her advocate then. The inquest may as well be a court martial from the way it was being treated.

“Admiral Shepard,” the bald man saluted her. “This way, please.”

Shepard followed the man through the center of the hall. The room was as she remembered it in her own time. It had windows as tall as a cathedral. Morning light colored the wood grain on the floor and the marble pillars along the wall gave it a congressional feel for Parliament’s proceedings. The open floor seemed set up for testimonies with a lectern positioned in the center. 

A long table was perpendicular to the Alliance Board, facing the open floor. Shepard’s advocate held a chair out for her to sit. The chair next to her was already occupied. A dark haired man turned to face her. For a second, her heart caught in her throat, but it wasn’t him. This man was much younger, maybe younger than James Vega even. For a moment, though, the man’s symmetrical face and chiseled jaw had made her think of Kaidan.

“Admiral,” he said.

He had a colony accent Shepard couldn’t quite place, and his green eyes shattered any illusion of him being Kaidan. He gave her a grim smile. The smile would have been boyish, cute even, if not for the seriousness in it. His eyes lingered on her lips, before turning back to watch the assembling fleet admirals. 

Shepard leaned forward to see his name plaque. Commander Lyndon Tautum. She knew the name from somewhere, a Spectre candidate perhaps. Sitting next to her in a court martial didn’t bode well for that being the case here. The advocate sat in the chair on her other side. Across the room, two court officials sat at a table mirroring their own, the prosecuting council most likely. 

The fleet admirals still mingled in the doorway and moved slowly to fill the rows of desks. There were more fleet admirals here than she had expected. Typically there were five to six in Sol at one time, not this many. It could be the whole of Parliament here for how many were filing into the room. Shepard’s eyes caught on Hackett coming through the side doorway. A man came out from behind him. Air caught in her lungs. It was Kaidan.

He wore the same uniform as Hackett, standing taller and broader as he followed Hackett into the dais. He looked the same as ever, other than the Alliance colors on his breast. He was just as groomed, just as fit, just as everything. Except for that look. He had a dark, fallen look on his face as he climbed the stairs behind Hackett. He found a seat and stared out at the room with a raw detachedness she had never seen in him before. His eyes didn’t shift her direction.

The advocate leaned into her ear. “Remember not to speak unless asked a question directly.”

“Of course,” Tautum answered, the advocate’s directions apparently meant for both of them. Tautum caught her looking at him and gave her a small, lopsided smile.

“Call to order,” projected a fleet admiral in the center front of the dais. The place was traditionally reserved for the Fleet Admiral of Sol. The man was vaguely familiar, silver haired and older, well manicured, with a DaVinci-type balance to the beauty of his aged features. He was sitting in Wilson’s seat. 

Now Shepard looked, though, she didn’t see Admiral Wilson among the faces at all. By count there were twenty-one admirals, meaning they were all assembled. Her throat went dry. Without Wilson . . . 

Though she and Wilson had gotten off on the right foot when he was first assigned as her CO, they’d grown to share a mutual respect. Kaidan, who had arrested him and overturned his office once, was eternally on the naughty list in Wilson’s books. But she and Wilson had developed a comfortable rapport over the years. 

Now it appeared that Wilson wasn’t on the Admiral Board at all. She only had Hackett and Kaidan to support her, if this went sour. She didn’t have the most powerful fleet admiral in Parliament in her pocket as she hoped.

Shepard chanced another glance at Kaidan. He was leaning an elbow on his desk, touching lips, and listening to Hackett speak in his ear. He shook his head and said something back to Hackett. They were her only allies here, but neither had bothered to look in her direction once.

“Read Admiral Shepard.” A woman at the opposite table stood. A stout woman, taller than most men and with wide-set shoulders, she towered over them while standing in the center of the floor. A name plaque at the empty chair across from them read: Lt. Commander Yoshida. “This is a hearing to decide Rear Admiral Shepard and Staff Commander Tautum’s role in the destruction of the SSV Contender. Representatives for the salarian and asari governments are present.” 

Shepard hadn’t noticed the holograms in the corner. There were three figures from each race, though Shepard didn’t recognize any of them. None of them were Councilors Ilk or Tevos. The observers had a pacificity that indicated they were more token observers more than being people with any real pull on the outcomes of her trial. The posters she’d seen on the wall the night before came to mind: “Human Systems Alliance: Galactic Leader in Military Innovation and Security.” Perhaps the Alliance was the galactic leader afterall in this place. These representatives from the other races looked more like feeble puppets, not anyone of consequence. A councilor should have been among them, if this trial was consequential to another race.

“The Human Systems Alliance Board of Fleet Admirals is also in attendance,” Yoshida continued.

Shepard’s gaze strayed to Kaidan again. She caught his eye, but he looked away sharply and refocused on the woman speaking.

“To start, Rear Admiral, Commander,” Yoshida pivoted to them, “please state your position on the charges that have been submitted.”

The advocate gave Shepard a nod, and Shepard leaned forward to the microphone. “Not guilty.”

The advocate frowned and put a hand over her microphone. He whispered into her ear. The Admiral Board stirred with confused whispers. The tall woman in the center of the room stared coldly at Shepard.

“Uh, not culpable,” Shepard corrected.

Commander Tautum followed suit. How was Shepard to know this esoteric inquest vocabulary? She’d never been court martialed before. Her hearing before the war, her closest reference, hadn’t been anything like this one.

“For the record,” Yoshida said, “please state, Rear Admiral Shepard, your relationship with co-defendant, Staff Commander Tautum.”

Shepard froze. She had no idea. Perhaps he worked under her. 

Yoshida waited, tapping her foot and finally sighed “Are you in a romantic or sexual relationship, or ever had unprofessional dealings, with Commander Tautum?”

That at least was more specific. Shepard glanced at Tautum, but he stared straight ahead, back ramrod straight, and posture frozen. Shepard could only faintly glimpse the space under his collar. The bedroom had been dark when she woke, but there was one thing she remembered well: the sparrow. Tautum didn’t have a tattoo on his neck. Shepard released a long breath.

“No,” Shepard said straight into the microphone.

“And Commander Tautum have you--”

“No comment,” Tautum said. “I’m enacting my rights.”

Shepard’s throat closed. Tautum didn’t make eye contact, hands flat on the table in front of him, and his face kept forward.

“To clarify,” Yoshida said. “You’re enacting your rights to not self-incriminate.”

“Correct.”

Dammit. Had she just perjured herself? Shepard’s eyes wandered to Kaidan. He stared back at her levelly with a coldness that was completely new. Her chest tightened.

***

“And it was you, Admiral Shepard, who intercepted Commander Tautum’s transmission with the Contender’s flight plans?”

“No comment.” Shepard slumped forward and folded her arms on the desk. The inquest had been going on like this for hours.

“Records from the SSV Titan indicate the CO was on duty in the CIC. Were you on duty, Commander Tautum? Witnesses put you in a meeting with Lieutenant Dawson and Helmsman Peters.”

“No comment,” he said.

“The transmission was received in your private quarters. Access codes and security clearance allowed download of confidential program files and the Contender’s flight plan. You’re a Spectre, Admiral Shepard, why would you use Commander Tautum’s access clearances? This sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

Shepard’s advocate shot up. “Objection. Conjecture. Admiral Shepard has never been charged in military court with those incidences.”

Yoshida’s thin-lipped smile turned their direction. “Of course, withdrawn.”

This had become a recurring theme. Yoshida would reference past misbehaviors, Shepard’s advocate would object, and everyone would be left with a knowing look pointed in Shepard's direction. Kaidan had long since become enraptured with a spot on the desk in front of him. He was listening though. She could tell that much.

Her scrutiny of Kaidan caught Admiral Hackett’s attention. He followed Shepard’s eyes to Kaidan and back with a sunken in frown. Shepard looked away quickly and refocused on the towering woman in front of her. Yoshida, too, was following Shepard’s eyes to the Admiralty Board.

“The Admiral Board can’t help you, Admiral,” she said. “They are here to pass judgement at the end. Trial Foreman, Fleet Admiral Cicero, leads the inquiry, but the rest of the board is merely here to listen.” 

The silver-haired man at the forefront of the Admiral Board gazed at her. Now she had a name to put to him, she did recognize him. He was a Rear Admiral Cicero assigned to Orian Station. As Councilor, she’d rarely had reason to interact with him. He was too obscure, sidelined in the wilderness of the Terminus System, to be present at the Alliance receptions in Vancouver or involved in Council politics. With the Terminus System overwhelmed with piracy and organized crime, the Alliance had called the occupation of Orian a disappointment and was laying plans to withdraw. Cicero was returning to Sol a failure. Here, though, he appeared to be in exactly the opposite situation. His seat on the dais indicated he was Fleet Admiral of Sol, the most prestigious and coveted position in Parliament.

“Perhaps, Representative Yoshida, this would be a good time to adjourn for the day,” Cicero said. His voice unfurled in a cool monotone, rich and deep, but strikingly placid. It was so remarkably silken to perhaps be the old man’s most striking quality. 

Yoshida cut off whatever she had been about to say with a frown. “Of course, Admiral.”

The Admiral Board rose from their seats. Kaidan was the first up. Rubbing his temple, he wove through the admirals in front of him toward the Admiral Board’s side door. Shepard launched to her feet. 

Her advocate caught her sleeve. “No, Admiral. Let the Board leave first. Looks best.”

Shepard tore her sleeve away. Kaidan had already disappeared out the side entrance. It was a door she couldn’t use anyway. Her advocate gave her a pointed look, and with a growly sigh, she sank back into her chair.

“Good. I’m going to discuss some issues with Representative Yoshida.” He scooted his chair back and crossed the room to the giant woman.

Commander Tautum checked the microphones were off then, shielding the side of his face with a hand, turned to her. Perhaps he was concerned someone could read his lips.

“Shepard. You holding up?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said absently.

A posse of fleet admirals had coalesced around Admiral Cicero. He was speaking with them and glanced sideways in Shepard’s direction. Their eyes connected. A chill shivered down her spine, and her fingers tightened on the arms of her chair.

“I miss you,” Tautum said.

“What?” Shepard pulled her attention away from the admirals.

“Can we go somewhere? I know a place.”

Shepard’s back stiffened. 

“Please?” He leaned in closer. “I need to feel you.”

“No.” Shepard screeched her chair back and stood abruptly.

“That’s it then? Please don’t --”

“I need to go.”

Damn the Admiral Board filing ahead of her. She didn’t care. Her advocate swung around to watch her, cutting off mid conversation with Yoshida, and giving Shepard a pointedly dirty look. She trotted to the door anyway and darted into the hallway past the two guards. They called after her about an escort, but she ignored them. She took the right corner. The Admiral Board had a reception room through the side door by the dais. It emptied into the hallway around the next corner. She took it sharply. 

A dozen fleet admirals were lingering in the hallway outside the reception room and shot frowns in her direction. A few even looked startled, wide-eyed, and pulling up their Omni-Tool screens as if to call for someone. She rushed into them. She pushed Admiral Sheng out of her way, and standing in their gaggle, and looked each direction down the intersecting hallways. She saw him.

Kaidan was half-way down the hall to her left. The strong cut of his shoulders, his gait, and the dark hair were unmistakable. She pounded down the hallway after him. He shot a glance over his shoulder, and his feet slowed as if waiting for her to catch up with him. Finally, she had some hope of finding a solution to this mess. She spun around him, panting, and stood face to face.

“Admiral Shepard,” he said simply.

“Kaidan!”

The frown already set into his features darkened. He crossed his arms impatiently. He didn’t look happy to see her. Shepard cocked her head with a smirk. Hell, she’d never felt so happy to see him. He was the only rock to stand on in this chaos.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked.

Kaidan darted a look over his shoulder at the admirals in the hallway.

“It’s inappropriate to be talking to me,” he said.

“So formal.” Shepard frowned, but chuckled at his starchiness. She tugged on her uniform and stood taller.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“To talk with you. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” he echoed doubtfully. “Talk about what? I don’t plan to vote one way or another. I don’t even want involved with this.”

“That?” Shepard dismissed the conference room with a backward wave of her hand. “Vote your conscience. You will anyway.”

“What if my conscience says you're culpable?”

“Whatever happened to a simple ‘guilty,’ ‘not guilty’? ‘Culpable,’ ‘not culpable’?” Shepard rolled the words around her tongue.

“This is funny to you?”

Shepard hesitated. Kaidan’s eyes were sharp and dark.

“I suppose it shouldn’t be,” she said.

“No, it shouldn’t.” Kaidan stepped around her and started down the hall again.

Shepard rushed to keep up with him. “Kaidan, can I please talk to you?”

“We are talking.”

“While you’re race walking. Slow down.” She had to jog to keep pace with his long strides.

Kaidan slowed and faced her with a snap. “Say whatever you have to say then. I have places to go.”

His voice was colder than she ever imagined he could be with her. Shepard’s chest constricted. For the first time in a long time, she felt the tickle of something she barely remembered: fear.

Shepard licked her lips. “Did we have some falling out?”

Kaidan ran a hand over his face tiredly and sighed. Shepard’s eyes caught on something, but he spoke before she could process it.

“How can you even ask that after Illium? I’m . . .” He paused and then just shook his head. “I don’t know. I have to be somewhere.”

“Illium when?”

He stared at her hard. It was flinty enough to make her want to take a step back. Instead she shifted her weight on her feet and waited, but he didn’t answer.

“Look,” she said finally. “I don’t remember what happened on Illium. I don’t remember a lot. It’s why I want to talk to you.”

“So you can remember what happened on Illium?”

She nodded. He studied her guardedly, crossing his arms, shoulders tense. Finally, he smiled grimly and shook his head.

“I don’t believe you. Especially after what you did back there. You lied, Shepard. On the stand.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Really?” he asked with a tight smile. “How dumb do you think I am? You may have Tautum wrapped around your finger, but you don’t have me. Not anymore.”

Shepard grabbed his arm to prevent him from passing around her again. He yanked his arm away from her.

“The worse thing, Admiral,” Kaidan said, “is Tautum’s too besotted with you to even know how you’re using him. Why are you dragging him into this? You set him up to take the fall, but got caught yourself. Now you’re not going down alone for it.”

Shepard was speechless. He leaned in with a hotter whisper.

“Was it premeditated? Did you know that transmission was coming in? Were you using him for it, or was it just some splendid coincidence? You’re sleeping with him, and everything falls together to get the information you need complete with a patsy to take the fall.”

“You’re jealous I slept with him?”

Kaidan’s lips twisted sourily. “No, Shepard. I got over that a long time ago. I don’t care who you have sex with. But I do care that you’re using some boy who’s a decade younger than you to accomplish your damn goals. Feed him to the wolves so you can move on to marking off the next checkbox. Nice gray area you’ve built yourself there. All for the greater good, right?”

“I don’t understand what happened,” Shepard fumed and closed the distance between them. “I sure as hell bet it was for a good reason, though, Kaidan.”

“I’m sure. The ends always justify the means anyway, right?”

“Sometimes.”

Kaidan gave her a long stare then backed around her. “Don’t talk to me again, Admiral. It’s inappropriate. Your not-remembering ploy needs some work. I’d practice in front of the mirror before trotting it out for the rest of the Admiral Board.” He turned his back to her and started down the hall.

Shepard’s chest pounded. “Kaidan!”

“Admiral Alenko,” he cut back at her.

“What?” Shepard’s voice split.

“Admiral Alenko. Fleet Admiral, if you have the syllables to spare. Or Spectre. Your choice, but those are the choices.” 

He disappeared down the hall.


	3. Homemade Recipe

**CHAPTER 3: Homemade Recipe**

Shepard draped a leg over her couch’s armrest and sank back into the cushions. She pulled the hood of her N7 sweatshirt up over her hair, still wet from the shower, and stared up at the blank, gray ceiling. The sweatshirt didn’t smell like her life, but it was the only thing she loved and could still find here.

“Lexi.”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“When was my last trip to Illium?”

“You last visited Illium 43 days ago.”

“When was he there? Admiral Alenko?” Shepard spat out the name.

“Unknown.”

“Is there a way to find out?”

“Illium Commercial Monitoring Systems keeps records of official transits on and off planet.”

“Send a message with my Spectre credentials. Request information on the coming and going of Admiral Alenko to Illium in the last . . . ten years.”

“As Admiral Alenko’s personal residence is listed as Illium, search settings with that wide of a parameters will likely return many hits.”

“Just cross reference them with times I was there.”

“Would you like to dictate the request?”

“Just send it. How many times have I visited Illium in the last ten years?”

“Fifty-eight times.”

Shepard took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to get her much information. The computer was right. 

“Send,” she said anyway.

She closed her eyes. She was never this weak. To get upset over something so little. She was getting soft and vulnerable with age. Or, rather, there was finally something, which at this age, made her soft and vulnerable. Damn Kaidan! It wasn’t her Kaidan though. She had to remind herself of that. 

She pulled the sweatshirt's hood over her face and curled over on the couch. That person wasn’t the man she loved, the father of her child. He wasn’t the one who held her and whispered in her ear at night. This man hadn’t gone through Avyn’s medical testing, all the horror and close calls. He hadn’t cried with her. He hadn’t sat in silence with her when there was nothing left to say. He wasn’t the man she left sleeping on Avyn’s pillow with her arm wrapped around his neck. They had the same black curls and olive skin. The stormlight had danced over them while they slept and Shepard stood in the doorway. Shepard bit her lip and squeezed her eyes tighter. She needed to get back.

“Lexi.” Shepard lurched upright and twisted to face the terminal. “Where is Miranda Lawson? Do I have her contact number?”

“Miranda Lawson, founder and CEO of Cybernet Biologics and Technology. Her contact number is in your personal directory.”

“Connect me.”

Air ballooned in her chest making her feel light for once. If anyone could believe her, Miranda was her best bet. Miranda had saved her life multiple times. An unconventional science background was exactly what Shepard needed to have her life saved again. Shepard pulled out the desk chair and sat.

“Contact her Omni-Tool,” Shepard added.

She combed her fingers through the wet tangles of her hair. The comm glowed in and out with the connecting signal, and Shepard waited. She was about to give up and try something else when the monitor made a clicking sound and brightened with a picture. 

Miranda’s hair was shorter, a dramatic A-line that curled around her chin. Her eyes had a mechanical quality that reminded Shepard of the Illusive Man, a cybernetic enhancement of some sort. 

“Shepard. A surprise.” Miranda’s smile wasn’t fake, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She’d rerouted the call to a terminal on her desk and sat stiffly with a prim impatience. Her onyx suit had shoulders cut in the latest fashion from Nos Astra runways. A stiff collar sloped down the side of her throat and extended over her shoulders in a sharp prong. Shepard had just started seeing it on the Citadel in the upper crust investors. They used style to stand out from their entourage of lobbyists and personal assistants, while flashing credits at her to sway Council rulings. 

“You never call unless you want something.” Miranda folded her hands on the glass desk. “What now?”

Shepard tried not to stare at Miranda’s eyes beyond holding a normal gaze. Her iris had a platinum-sapphire glitter that caught the light at different angles. Perhaps they were aesthetic in addition to some enhancement. Miranda pursed her lips and checked her Omni-Tool, probably looking at the time. 

“Can I meet with you?” Shepard broke out of her trance. “I need help.”

“Ah, right to it then as usual.” Miranda shifted in her seat, and the glowing expanse of a city peeked in the window behind her. “Well?”

“Are you on Earth?”

Miranda gave her a tired look. “What do you think? You want me to come to you, I suppose.”

“I’m in some sort of -- I don’t know -- Alliance trial or something. I can’t leave.”

“The Contender incident, I know.” Miranda leaned back in her leather chair. “Be glad Alliance Headquarters is locked down and secure from the media. I’ve been receiving interview requests, and I’m as removed from it as the deli boy who made your last sandwich.”

“You may know more about it than I do.”

Miranda smirked. “I’m not that well informed, I’m sure.”

“I have a big problem here, Miranda.” Shepard scooted her chair closer into the desk. “I think you’re the only one who can help me. Maybe the only one who will believe me.”

“Is something wrong with your biotics?” Miranda sat forward suddenly. “You’re not still having those biotic surges? Another seizure?”

“No,” Shepard said slowly.

“I’m serious, Shepard.” Miranda pointed a French-tipped finger at the screen. “Whatever you’ve been doing the last few years with your biotics, stop. I can’t fix the damage.”

Shepard almost said something but pushed it aside. None of that mattered.

“It’s something else, Miranda. Not health-related. It’s better if we talked in person.”

“The Alliance won’t give me clearance to enter the headquarter’s building.”

“Then I’ll come to you. No one’s guarding my door, and I can sneak out.”

“It’s a risk but up to you.”

“Okay. Where am I going?”

Miranda gave Shepard a tired look. “The Citadel. I’m in Cybernet Tower. I’ll be here all night. Talk to my security team at the door. Even with that absurd dye job, they’ll recognize you and bring you up.”

Shepard raised a hand to her hair. “The Citadel?”

“Right.” Miranda clicked off the comm.

Shepard leapt to her feet. “Lexi, find me a flight to the Citadel asap.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Shepard rushed to her bedroom to change. Miranda would solve this. This wasn’t unsolvable. 

***

“That’s impossible, Shepard.” Miranda paced in front of her window. 

The window set the sterile office space aglow in the pink and yellow lights of Citadel traffic. Shepard sat in a white, leather chair facing Miranda’s desk and couldn’t take her eyes off the massive city beyond the glass. In the distance, past the city lights and ward arms, glowed the Citadel’s white beam. It didn’t touch London anymore or any other place. Without the keepers, it had never shut off. It didn’t have any purpose, but it was beautiful in the background of space. The beam was the only similarity to the real Citadel in her time. It was so urban, busy, and flashy here. Too much neon and not enough grass.

“Where I’m from, the Citadel doesn’t have a commercial sector like this. There’s only been enough rebuilding to house Council politics and delegates. A few businesses, but nothing like this.”

“The Council isn’t on the Citadel, Shepard. You know this.” 

Shepard frowned. “Where is it then?”

“The councilors are on their home planets.”

“That’s inefficient.” Shepard leaned an elbow on the chair’s armrest. “They need a centralized location. It’s been twelve years since the war. You should say something, Miranda.”

“And to whom do you expect -- Nevermind,” Miranda cut herself off and paced faster. “Don’t distract me. What you’re saying is impossible, Shepard. Another world?” She stopped abruptly and turned to Shepard. “I think I should scan your nervous system. You weren’t exposed to neurotoxins or uncontrolled biotic fields on your last mission?”

“Wouldn’t know. All I know, Miranda, is exactly what I told you: the Mass Effect Shard, my biotics glowing, the electrical storm.”

Miranda tapped her nails on a hip. “I’m not talking about what happened in your delusion. I’m asking about toxins and energy fields in real life. Something recent.”

“It’s not a delusion, but go ahead and scan me.”

Miranda marched around her and threw open the stainless steel doors of a cupboard. She returned to Shepard with a scanning rod. It was smaller with more button options than Shepard was used to seeing when Miranda did Avyn’s scan. During the shuttle ride to the Citadel, a quick extranet search had given Shepard the basics of Cybernet: biotechnology, cutting-edge, innovative, proprietary. Expensive. Very expensive. The scanning rod had a Cybernet seal stamped into the base. 

Miranda reviewed the scan results at her desk before repeating it again with a different loop-shaped device tightened around Shepard’s head. At one point, Miranda brought Shepard down a secure hallway to an enclosed scanning machine. The results still must not have been satisfactory, because Miranda sat at her desk with a crease between her eyes.

“Will you believe me now?” Shepard slouched in the chair across from her. “I’d really like to move to the problem solving part of this.”

“I’m getting a strange biotic reading from you.” Miranda turned the holographic screen to Shepard. Bars danced up and down with biotic energy signatures. It reminded her of the scan results Miranda had shown her the night of the storm.

“I was giving off that same signal the night this happened. It came from the particles of Mass Effect Shard embedded in my skin. Only . . .” A sinking feeling burrowed in Shepard’s stomach. “Only, the signal was stronger then.”

“You must have gotten particles on you trying to deactivate the Sol Relay.”

“What? When did this happen?”

Miranda pursed her lips, exasperated. “A few days ago before they arrested you.”

“This has to do with my trial? I thought I was on trial for destroying some Alliance frigate and upending an multi-species-sponsored project no one wants to name.”

“They’re not directly related. After destroying the Contender, the krogan attacked Arcturus. To prevent a krogan invasion into Sol, the Alliance directed you to remove the Shard and deactivate the relay. But if you didn’t know how to do it, you shouldn’t have tried. Have you had memory problems since fracturing the Shard?”

“I fractured the Sol relay’s Shard. It’s not destroyed?”

“I heard it cracked when you tampered with it. Alliance ships were escaping through the relay from Arcturus at the same time while you were trying to remove it.”

“So it’s not destroyed. Why does everyone act like they’re stranded in Sol then?”

“Because we are stranded, Shepard. The fleets were converging to defend Earth and escape Arcturus when the Shard cracked. It’s fractured. It will probably shattered during one of the next few activations. That’s why the Alliance has locked down the relay.” 

“What happened to Arcturus?” 

“Shepard . . .”

“Please,” Shepard prodded. “I, honestly, don’t know.”

“The krogan sabotaged one of the Arcturus relays. The whole system’s destroyed. The relay collapsed and imploded. If the Sol relay didn’t connect to other relays besides Arcturus that alone would have stranded us permanently.” Miranda narrowed her eyes at Shepard. “Are you looking for someone to testify at your trial? Perhaps about mental capacity, ability for clear decision making?”

“What? No. I don’t even care about the damn trial. I’m not going back. I’m going home.”

“You’re going to skip out on your trial?”

“It’s not _my_ trial.” Shepard rested back on the headrest. “Like I said. Let’s just bang this out and get me home.”

“And what do you suggest?” Miranda said and thumped down in her chair.

“I can tell you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to. Now, it seems reasonable to assume that if what brought here was a combination of factors, the same combination of factors can send me back.”

“And, if this is a parallel universe, Shepard, how would we get you back to the right one? There would be an infinite amount of options. Just from the moment you disappeared onward, assuming the other timelines continue forward at a parallel pace, then each fraction of a decision splinters the timeline into a billion new timelines. There would be infinite realities. The entire idea is absurd.”

“That’s multiverse, Miranda.” Shepard wanted to pull her hair out. Time was wasting repeating the same things over and over. “According to Rebecca’s research on the relays, if it’s true, the timeline rarely splits, and when it does, it’s a decision that splits it two ways. It happens once every twenty years somewhere in the galaxy or something like that. I don’t know. Each split creates a sister branch. This, apparently, is my timeline’s most recent branch. Rebecca said the last time they saw the branching frequency expand was ten years ago.”

“So, we’ll just knock you back onto the . . . sister branch.” 

“Exactly. The branches furthest back are from eons ago. I probably don’t even exist. The more recent branches are too distant to communicate with anyway compared to the sister branch. But there’s a strong connection between branches of the same node. Per Rebecca.”

“Rebecca?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is, I return to the true timeline where I belong. At this point, I’ve only lost twenty-four hours. Approximately.”

Miranda sighed and pinched her nose. Finally, she stood and came around the desk. Shepard smiled eagerly. 

“I have sedatives to offer you, Shepard, if this trial has you overwrought.”

“Sedatives?” Shepard’s smile faded.

“Nothing illegal, like what you like to dabble in. Though, maybe . . . No, let’s start with the smaller hitters.”

Shepard frowned at her. “Is there any way to replicate a lightning storm in a controlled environment?”

“It’s possible,” Miranda said hesitantly.

“Then let’s do it.” Shepard shot to her feet. “I know this doesn’t make sense to you, but humor me.”

“It’s insane, Shepard. I think you’ve hit some sort of breaking point. You need a psychiatrist. I have names.”

“I will do all that, but later. Just play along with my delusion for now. I still have Shard signature in my skin. I have my biotics. I only need the electricity. Can you replicate lightning? ”

“In the air, certainly. Hitting you, no.”

“Then, please, let’s try it.”

Miranda stared at her then drained out a long exhale. “Fine, but then . . .”

“Yes, fine. All the tranquilizers, shrinks, and straight jackets you want.”

“How much electricity?” Miranda pulled a datapad out of the top drawer of her desk. “How long, how grouped, how close?”

“I don’t know that.”

“And this signature in your skin, the Mass Effect Shard material, you say it’s fainter now.”

“It could be wearing its way out of my skin. Becca said something like that.”

“Again this Becca?” Miranda lowered the datapad and cocked her head at Shepard.

“She exists,” Shepard said defensively, then added. “At least, in my timeline. Rebecca Vega.”

“James Vega’s wife?” Miranda frowned. “The relay physics engineer in Vancouver?”

“At least, that’s the same. Yes.”

“Foreign particles do wear out of dermal tissue,” Miranda agreed grudgingly. “That isn’t wrong. But if the signature is fading and the concentration in your skin is diminishing, how do we compensate with the other factors? _Can_ we compensate with the other factors? Do we need more electricity? Do your biotics need to be stronger? Is there a fine balance, or is more always better?”

“I don’t know!” Shepard slapped the desk. “I’m losing time. The more time we waste here, the more the signal fades off my skin.”

“Just throw whatever my whim says then? We could trial infinite random combinations of electrical grouping and intensity and never get closer.”

“Is there any way to replicate particles from a Mass Effect Shard?”

“Not unless you plan to destroy another relay.”

“Then we can’t trial this infinitely, can we? We have until the particles’ signature disappears. How long do I have?”

“Based on the decay coefficient averaged over the last few minutes, I’d say it will be imperceptible by tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Shepard’s insides twisted. “Right now. No more waiting.” She grabbed Miranda’s wrist. 

“Your trial starts in eight hours.”

“I couldn’t care less. Let’s go.”

***

The lab assistant assistant removed chairs from the experimentation chamber and used a ladder to unscrew light bulbs in the ceiling. In the center of the chamber stood a device with parallel rods already starting to glow and spark with electricity. Shepard and Miranda watched the preparations from the window of a small control room.

A cranial scanner stuffed in the corner of the control room drew Shepard’s attention. When the lab assistant removed it from the control room, it had woken from sleeper mode. A familiar image of biotic nodules glowed on the screen.

“You’re still working on that?” Shepard asked.

“What?” Miranda barely glanced in her direction.

Shepard walked to the scanner’s screen and ran a fingernail over the area branching with red tendrils of energy. “Back, right lobe with a faint breech into the other hemisphere. The spread of this tumor . . .” Shepard’s breath caught, and she peered closer at it. “This is a post-mortem, isn’t it?”

Miranda turned to her with high eyebrows. “You can read that? You’re more studious than I thought you were, Shepard. I’m impressed. This is a trimetric, eezo nodule scanner. Not many people can read them. I have the red color signifying sustained eezo activity in neural clusters. It’s just preceding death, not post-mortem.”

“You can stop it, you know.”

“Sure.” Miranda chuckled and strolled over. “Many ways to do it. None of them are good.”

“Surgery. You need precise biotic fields to manually activate pathways not activated yet by tumor spread. By synchronizing the nodules, stabilizing and strengthening blockade, over time with multiple surgeries, you can stop the growth.”

“Nice in theory.”

“When the eezo tumor branches out, if it hits an already activated and static neuron, the branching ends. The pathway eventually stabilizes and becomes static itself. It stops spreading, and you can remove the tissue surgically.”

Miranda’s lips parted. “That’s not possible. The exactness of a biotic field needed to activate a single neuron and be that precise, it’s fantastic. That’s not to mention the danger of introducing a field like into healthy brain tissue. And anticipate which neurons that will be affected by the branching? To a level, it could be extrapolated in simulation, but there’s a degree of randomness you can’t account for. Guessing which direction it would take, and if I’m wrong, I’ll have injured healthy tissue. Impossible.”

“It takes multiple surgeries. Constant simulations building off a specific individual’s branching patterns. It needs to be constantly evolving and narrowing results in statistical likelihood. It takes multiple surgeries activating the predicted road blocks. Some surgeries the patient may even need to be awake to prevent damaging a vital region.”

Miranda folded her arms. “That’s assuming every neuron is seeded with eezo and equally likely to be activatable. In utero with eezo exposure, it depends on where the fetus is in development for how homogenous the eezo nodules are in the neuronal network.”

“But, if it’s in the DNA of every cell, like the child of two biotics, perhaps then, you know every neuron can be used as a roadblock. As long as it’s not in a sensitive location to make it too dangerous to activate, it’s possible to create a block.”

“You’ve heard about those children?” Miranda narrowed her eyes. “There are only a handful of them, most of them in the Terminus System. A large portion have already had lethal outcomes. None have survived into adolescents. Biotic inbreeding is being discouraged for that reason. Second generation biotics all die.”

“Biotic inbreeding,” Shepard said sourly and folded her own arms. “This approach could have application to first generation biotics, too, those created by exposure. You’d have to figure out eezo concentration in different regions of a child’s brain. Differentiate neurons. I don’t know as much about it, but it’s possible.”

“The tumors grow too fast to make any progress. That’s true for first and second generation eezo nodule tumors. Even if that approach worked with the activation blockade, it would be impossible to move faster than the tumor.”

“Not if you turned off what’s stimulating it to grow. Suppressed biotic activity.” Shepard moved to a holographic screen embedded in the wall. She drew with her finger. She knew the chemical formula by heart. It was relatively simple at the chemical level, though the protein carrier wasn’t, but Shepard didn’t bother drawing that. “That’s Biostace. With a proper Trojan horse to get to the brain and into the neurons, it completely suppresses biotic activity. Biotic activity blocked, the growth slows, perhaps enough you can move fast enough to treat it with incremental surgeries. Surgeries based off post-surgical scans and computer modeling to anticipate expansion.”

Miranda gave the organic formula a skeptical review. “Even if this . . .”

“Biostace.”

“Even if this drug was capable of suppressing biotic activity, the precision of the biotic field to activate the neurons during the surgery . . .”

“Use titarium for a condenser in the lens.”

“Titarium?”

“That’s all I know.” Shepard walked back to the window looking in on the experimentation chamber. The laboratory assistant was activating the machine in the center, pushing buttons on the glowing console, and realigning the coils on the rods.

“Titarium,” Miranda was still musing. “If it worked, that degree of precise biotic scapeling would be proprietary.”

“Seeing credits?” Shepard sighed. “What about just the betterment of science? Helping those biotic children?”

“If it worked, it could launch whatever company engineered the process into the public conscientiousness for technological innovation. We’d need subjects for a study, of course. Being a study it would by necessity be provided free, but there would be grants and fundraising. It would make Cybernet look humanitarian.” Miranda nodded to herself, but Shepard’s stomach rolled. “The parents would be desperate. We’d have no trouble recruiting. It wouldn’t need to be an accredited, externally monitored study to attract participants. We could accelerate technique by jumping straight to application in human subjects. If the child is already terminal then it shouldn’t --”

“Stop!” Shepard slapped the wall. “I didn’t tell you that to take advantage of people.”

“Take advantage?” Miranda gave her a tired look. “It’s a win-win. As long as I’m responsible, don’t cut corners in safety, everyone gets something out of it. If what you suggest works, I can even give you a percentage of the first year’s commercial revenue. Give you credit, too, I suppose.”

“I don’t care about that. I’m going home anyway, to my time. Do whatever you want with it.” Shepard moved to the experiment chamber’s door. “Is this almost ready? We’re wasting time.”

***

Shepard sat on the stairs in the control room and stared at the space between her feet. A half-eaten energy bar crinkled in her fingers. Miranda slid down beside her. Before them, the experimental chamber’s window glowed with building energy. The small control room they sat in felt stuffier and closer with each new try.

“Is it ready yet?” Shepard asked the floor.

“Attempt thirty-two?” Mirada leaned back wearily on the step behind them. “Five minutes, then you can go in.”

“We need more energy. Electrical energy.”

“We’ve maxed that out.”

“You’re being too conservative. My skin was glowing during the storm. Involuntarily. Something’s missing now.”

“Unless you remember being struck by lightning, there’s no need to go higher. You want a trial thirty-three and thirty-four, we leave it alone.”

“I don’t want a trial thirty-three and thirty-four.” Shepard threw her energy bar across the room. “I want thirty-two to work.”

“Either you want it to work or kill you, I suppose.”

“It needs to be higher.”

“The electrical activity you’ve been cumulatively exposed to far exceeds what’s safe. Any more, we’re not gaining anything.”

“Or it works.”

“You don’t want to hear this,” Miranda twisted on the stairs to face her, “but your Shard signature readings are dropping off.”

“But it’s still there. Increase everything.”

“Fine,” Miranda snapped and got to her feet. She went to a console against the wall and adjusted a sliding scale for output. Her Omni-Tool chirped, and she took a call in the corner. Shepard looked at her empty hand. She still hadn’t found her Omni-Tool.

“There’s an Alliance warrant issued for you,” Miranda said strolling back to the staircase.

“For my arrest?”

“I’m sure.”

Shepard sat back on the stairs. “Is this ready yet?”

Miranda folded a datapad under her arms and studied the top of Shepard’s head. “What’s so important in this other ‘reality’ of yours?”

“I’m married. I have a child. A home. I’m the human councilor.”

Miranda tapped the datapad against her side. “You turned down the councilor position.”

“In my life -- the real life -- I took it.”

“Well. Councilor Wilson is older. I imagine it will open up again. As for the rest, it’s easy enough. You have that . . . Whatever his name is. Commander . . . Oh hell, what is it?”

“Tautum?”

“Right! Lyndon or whatever. Young. Probably quite fertile. I’ve looked at you. We know it’s possible.”

“I don’t want Commander Tautum and some imaginary bundle of joy. I want what I had.”

“Tautum looks like a good roll. But, what about that merc captain on Titrus Station? Or the Mars pilot you met on Vas at that party? Wait! Better yet, what about the human ambassador on Palavan? You said he was good between the sheets. Why didn’t that go anywhere?”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Shepard exploded to her feet and shot to the door for the experimental chamber.

“Don’t go in yet,” Miranda warned.

Shepard pressed her forehead to the glass door. The crackle and weave of energy building on the other side raised the hair up her arm. Her hand was pressed to the glass by her face, and an image flashed in her head. It was Kaidan, not her Kaidan, the other one. He was reaching up to touch his temple in the hallway when they talked. There was a band on his finger.

“Kaidan . . .” Shepard’s throat went thick. His wedding band wasn’t hers. Her finger was empty. “Miranda?”

“What?” she asked tiredly.

“Kaidan . . . He got married?”

“Kaidan Alenko?” Miranda stared at Shepard strangely. “Yes . . .”

The light overhead the door clicked green. Shepard slammed her palm on the doors. It opened, and she shot into the experimental chamber.

“Trial thirty-two,” Miranda said.

***

“What?” Miranda whispered into her earpiece. She stood in the corner of the control room, as if that would prevent Shepard from hearing. “Yes, she’s here. I know that. Fine. No avoiding it, I suppose.” Miranda dropped her hand from her ear and turned back to the room.

Shepard paced along the wall. “Scan me again.”

“Shepard. They’re coming.”

“Scan me again.”

“I told you an hour ago. The Shard’s reading is gone.”

“Just one more round.”

“Shepard.” Miranda crossed her arms. “The Alliance is here. Jacob gave me a heads up. They’re escorting them here.”

“Jacob?” Shepard paused. “Jacob Taylor? He’s here?”

“He works for me. You know this.”

“No. No, I don’t. You’re not listening to me.” Shepard ground her teeth but moved on. “Why didn’t he come up earlier? He’s been here the whole time? He’s resourceful. Maybe he would’ve had ideas.”

“He knew you were here. If he had ideas, I’m sure he would have said.”

“He didn’t want to see me? Why?” Shepard put her hands on her hips. “Just last year in Rio, our kids were playing together in the surf. We drank beer under an umbrella that barely fit the four of us, the adults. A guy with dreadlocks kept trying to sell us shell necklaces. Brynn just had their fourth kid. It feels like last week.”

“He only has John, Shepard. He and Brynn divorced seven years ago.”

“Oh.” Shepard frowned then shrugged. “He should have come up.”

“You blame him?” Miranda scoffed and checked the messages on her Omni-Tool. “After Vega’s wedding, I doubt he wants to see you.”

“What are you talking about?” Shepard wanted to hit something. “Tell me, Miranda. What happened at Vega’s wedding? What happened on Illium? What happened with this damn Contender attack? I don’t understand any of it.”

“You want that sedative?”

“I don’t want to be here. Scan me again.”

“The Shard’s biotic signal is gone, Shepard.”

The door to the hallway swished open. Two Alliance soldiers escorted by security guards with Cybernet crests on their breasts came through the door. Miranda stood back, and they crossed the room to Shepard. Shepard put out her wrists. 

***

Shepard interlaced her fingers across her stomach and stared up at the ceiling of the detention cell. She hadn’t moved from the metal bed in hours. An Alliance guard tapped on the plexiglass. Shepard didn’t bother looking over at him.

“So, I’m to tell the Admiral Board and the court that you’re refusing to come?” the guard asked.

She didn’t respond.

“This won’t go over well, Admiral.”

“I don’t care,” Shepard whispered.

His shadow moved across the floor and the corridor’s door closed behind him. A man one cell over snored faintly. It caught for a second, but he didn’t wake. It fell back into rhythm.

Shepard didn’t care about the damn trial or any of it. Do what they wanted, it didn’t matter. If she wasn’t getting home, then it was pointless going through the motions here. She was on her own. Even Miranda didn’t believe her. The door to the corridore opened again.

“I’m her representative! I demand to see her,” a voice said.

“You can’t go in there,” the guard barked.

Shepard lifted her head. It was the bald lawyer who’d sat with her in court.

“Admiral Shepard.” He charged down the corridor with the Alliance guard on his heels. “I’ve been stalling, but you must come. I can’t buy us any more time.”

“You need clearance.” The guard put a hand on the lawyer’s arm.

The lawyer had reached Shepard’s cell. He knocked on the plexiglass until she looked over at him.

“Get up. Stealing off to the Citadel, missing your hearing this morning. If you don’t come right now to the afternoon session--”

“What?” Shepard snapped and swung her feet off the bed. “Tell me what happens.”

“You’re in contempt of court already. They won’t release you. They’ll finish the inquest without you and pass sentence. It won’t be in your favor.”

“And then?” Shepard shrugged.

“You must leave,” the guard said again and hauled the man backward by his arm.

“You’ll be held under detention until the disciplinary committee’s sentencing. You’ll face criminal repercussions. You’ll transfer straight from here.”

“Now,” the guard said, “or you’ll be in detention yourself, sir.”

“Please, Admiral Shepard.” The lawyer stumbled back in the guard’s grip. “Come with me.”

“No.” 

The door slid shut and left the room in a ringing silence. 

“Shepard?” repeated a rough voice.

Shepard jumped. The man in the cell next to her was awake. Shaggy-looking, he pressed the tip of his nose to the glass separating them. The white of his eyes had turned red. A spidery network of broken capillaries colored his hollow cheeks.

“Woke up, huh?” She eyed him then flopped back in her bed.

“You’re Shepard, the war hero.” He scratched at the scabs on his arm and lingered by the glass. “You make biotics proud.”

“What?” Shepard tilted her head to see him better. The fingernails on his right hand were falling off. He had the signs of red death, a sand user. Then he was also a biotic.

“The Biotic Human Rights Activists,” he said. “I’m one.”

Shepard squinted at his twitchy scratching. He had a ticky jerk to his facial expressions. It seemed worse under her scrutiny. These symptoms were from more than just overdosing on sand. 

“You’re a L2, aren’t you?” Shepard sat up.

“Yes.” He paced. Blood trickled down his arm from the open scabs. “I am . . . yes, yes, yes.”

Shepard walked over slowly. He moved cagily, pacing faster, jerking more violently with each turn. 

“You need help. Why are you here?”

“Me? Why am I here?”

“Yes.” 

He dragged his fingertips along the glass between them, leaving a long streak of blood. He stopped in front of her.

“They don’t want human biotics anymore. No more. No more.”

“That’s not true. You’re talking about the Eezo Exposure Protection Acts?”

“We brought down the transporter. There will be more now.”

Shepard’s frown deepened. The Biotic Human Rights Activists were responsible for numerous sabotaged ships crashing over major cities. The Vancouver transporter crash the day before the storm had made her suspicious when she read about it. Apparently, she’d been right. The transporter crash . . . Shepard froze. The crash had happened in this place as well then. More evidence it was a parallel timeline. 

He cut off her thoughts by slamming a bloody palm on the glass. “There will be more now. Understand? Understand?” 

“You need help. You shouldn’t be here. You need to be in a hospital.”

“The storm. It even spread it. The eezo.”

She had seen white mist hanging in the air when she went out into the storm. The storm was carrying eezo from the transporter crash in Vancouver. She had known that, but not connected it until now. If the storm here had eezo also then . . . 

The man laughed and slammed his hand on the glass over and over again. He clearly needed mental health services. Someone needed to look at him to rule out he wasn’t still deteriorating from overdosing on sand. Red death could catch up with some biotics, taking hours and days of worsening symptoms following an overdose. Then they died. 

“Guards!” Shepard pounded on her cell door. “This man needs medical attention.”

“No! No! No!” The man rushed around his cell like a caged animal and threw a chair at the plexiglass. He rammed his forehead into the wall, but didn’t seem daunted. Red sand made biotics feel invincible. No pain, inexhaustible energy, and amplified biotics: alluring but costly.

“What’s going on?” The guard came down the corridor.

“This man needs to be taken to a facility.”

“He killed nine people. He sabotaged the Alliance transporter crash a few days ago.”

“I won’t go!” the man screamed.

“He’s also on red sand if that isn’t obvious,” the guard said. “He’s being held here until it clears his system, and he can be transported to a civilian jail safely. You’re not the only superior officer who disagrees, but it’s what’s best.” 

“He needs medical attention. He’s a L2.”

The guard grunted and studied the man from the corner of his eye. “Didn’t know he was a L2. Makes more sense now. Sand can turn biotics violent, make them not themselves. Add a L2’s overpowered biotics and mental instability though? I’ve seen a lot of sand OD’s, but the L2’s are the worst. Messes ‘em up. If they live. Guess he thought the boost was worth it to take down the transporter’s guards.”

The man tore at the metal bed bolted to the floor. He ripped the mattress off it instead, but his legs in the blanket that came off with it. He fell. The guard sighed and talked into a comm in his ear. 

“Look. Now you’ve worked him up.” The guard pointed at her.

More guards came through the door. They fought the man in the cell until he was stunned by an Omni-Tool. He went limp and vacant-eyed. 

“He needs medical treatment,” Shepard shouted after the guards as they took him away.

Shepard sat on the edge of her bed in the sudden silence. Eezo in the storm was the same between both timelines. That had to be the missing ingredient. The Shard particles, her biotics, and electricity weren’t enough. No wonder the lab simulations had failed. She needed eezo too. She had the pieces now. The Shard particles in her skin were gone, but now she knew the full recipe, perhaps it wasn’t hopeless after all. She needed to talk to Miranda. She wasn’t going to get anything done trapped in jail.

“Guard!” Shepard called.

She was still commander of the Normandy. She could find another Mass Relay Shard. She could shatter it in the beam and get Shard particles in her skin. But, to do that, she needed to get past this trial. After being exonerated or getting her slap on the wrist, she could make a plan for her missing ingredient. 

“Guard!” Shepard called again.

***

The inquest had already adjourned for the day. Apparently, her lawyer was no longer allowed into detention to see her. His pushiness hadn’t gone over well. Shepard sat on her metal bed and waited for the “official parties” to decide whether she could be released for the night. 

Staying overnight in detention until her morning hearing wasn’t intolerable, but she’d rather be in her barracks. She needed to contact Miranda and start making concrete plans. She’d already decided on a plan to speed the trial along. 

The door at the end of the corridor slid open. Two figures in Alliance uniforms came toward her. 

“Rear Admiral,” the man in front greeted her.

It was the foreman of her trial, the fleet admiral who commanded Sol. Admiral Cicero. His face was smooth and aged, a calm air about him, eyes sharp and gray like a wolf. Behind him was a familiar face, Admiral Hackett.

“Fleet admirals.” Shepard stood.

“This is very serious behavior, Admiral,” Hackett said.

“I understand.” 

If she was going to command the Normandy any time soon and return home, she needed to shake this inconvenient trial.

“I’m prepared to take responsibility for everything.”

A confession was the quickest way to cut through the witness testimony, presentation of evidence, cross examinations, objections, the laborious speech making. She’d even be cutting through Parliament debating the verdict behind closed doors for hours or days. They could demote her, slap her with a fine, perhaps make her sit in jail a few days. It was better than weeks of time lost in drawn out hearings. 

There was a risk they’d take the Normandy from her, but that seemed extreme. It’s not as though she had attacked the Contender directly. She passed on some intel. That resulted in the ship being destroyed by the krogan, but she had no control over their actions. That’s it. She could take the spanking.

“In addition to taking responsibility,” Shepard said, “it has come to my attention I may have dragged Commander Tautum unnecessarily into this affair. I’ll take full responsibility.” She’d throw Kaidan an olive branch for whatever it was worth. 

Hackett stepped closer to the glass. “What are you saying exactly? Tautum is innocent?”

Cicero interrupted the conversation with a raised hand, then waved a guard over from the doorway. “Please, release, Admiral Shepard.”

“She can’t leave detention yet,” Hackett said.

“I’m leading the inquest. If she’s going to change her stance on anything, it needs to be official before the Board, not us.”

“The next hearing isn’t until 0800. She’s ready to give a statement now.”

“Thank you, Fleet Admiral,” Cicero said. “I will take it from here.”

Cicero tipped his head prompting the guard to unlock the cell. The guard gave Hacket a wary look but followed Cicero’s command. .

“I want to absolve Commander Tautum of any involvement in this . . . whatever it is.”

Cicero’s gaze was frosty. “Stop talking, please, Admiral.”

“Let her say it,” Hackett said. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Cicero said sharply. “This can be done at the hearing tomorrow, not here.”

The guard unlocked Shepard’s cell. Hackett’s mouth set into a frown. He gave Cicero a sideways look then strode stiffly to the door.

“This way, Admiral,” Cicero said to her.

“Do I need to be processed or something?” Shepard stepped past the guard warily and followed Cicero toward the door.

“Not necessary,” he said.

They walked straight through an office of Alliance detention guards. They scurried out of Cicero’s way and eyed Shepard with curious frowns. The Alliance insignia marked a windowless hallway outside the detention office. 

Admiral Cicero took a sharp right, but Shepard slowed her steps. Admiral Hackett was standing down the opposite hallway. He was talking to someone. The figure was leaned back against the wall with crossed arms. When the man moved, she realized it was Kaidan. Her feet caught like stepping in tar.

Cicero backtracked to stand beside her. “Now, Shepard.”

The scent of sandalwood stung her nose. Shepard’s muscles froze. She didn’t want to look, but had to know. The tip of a sparrow’s wing peeked out from Cicero’s collar.

“You’ll ruin everything by throwing Tautum out of this,” Cicero said under his breath. “He’s on the verge of breaking. Then you’ll be clear. Let’s go.”

“Where?” Shepard’s spine stiffened.

“To my apartment.”

“No.” 

Cicero gazed at her coldly, almost eerily quiet. The intensity raised goosebumps up her arm. Shepard darted the other direction, toward Hackett. Kaidan glanced her direction then pushed off the wall. He was halfway down the hall before she reached Hackett. She almost called after him, but the formal title dried like poison on her tongue.

“You’ll come clean about Commander Tautum?” Hackett asked her.

“Yes. I’ll come clean on all of it.”

Hackett opened his mouth as if to say something, but there was only silence.

“That’s unexpected,” he said at last. 

Behind her, Cicero disappeared the opposite direction. It felt like a chill lifting off her neck. Her eyes lingered after Kaidan, but there was only an empty hallway.

***

Shepard was escorted by a pair of guards to her quarters. They took position outside the door. Shepard had Lexi load the scanner software Miranda had used on her earlier. Shepard stood still as a beam flickered over her body from a laser on top of the terminal. The screen blinked the result. No signature readings other than her own biotics. She had it scan her again. Still nothing. 

She dropped on the couch like a puddle and crumpled over a pillow. It had been a weak hope anyway. Still, there had been the chance the signature had returned or Miranda was wrong.

Shepard asked Lexi about messages. Nothing. Miranda hadn’t contacted her back. She’d sent the message from the detention center before the admirals showed up. It was a simple message: I need to talk to you. Her one phone call of sorts. Here she was hours later and still nothing. Perhaps Miranda had enough of Shepard’s deranged antics. 

Shepard stretched across the couch. She would confess, get past this trial, and then take the Normandy to the Sol relay for the Shard. She’d be home in no time. 

Then she had the first dream.

***

_The patio by HQ’s cafeteria overlooked the ocean. Shepard stood at the railing and watched the waves slip across the grainy sand below. It left trails of foam. Summertime and the building behind her smelled of fresh paint and sawdust. Two years of constant construction following the war had added scores of new wings. HQ had become a sprawling metropolis atop the cliffs._

_Once straining at the seams with stranded alien diplomates, it was now quiet and empty. Sol’s relay was active once again. It hadn’t even been a week since the mass exodus, but Vancouver already felt like a ghost town and Alliance Headquarters the haunted mansion._

_“Shepard.”_

_She turned, and a salty wind blew hair into her face._

_“Kaidan.” She pulled the strands away from her eyes._

_It was still jarring to see the star of a general on his uniform. Despite his lengthy hospital stay following the Vancouver attack, he looked rested and fresh._

_“I came,” she said. She had gotten his message an hour ago._

_“Thanks.” He smiled softly._

_She knew what this was. It would have been hard to ignore the commotion on ANN and the troops massing on the Alliance docks. Preparation for the Terminus Operation was at fever pitch, and she knew the date for departure. She carried it inside her like a growing lump of steel._

_“How are you feeling?” she said instead._

_She hadn’t seen him alone since the terrorist attack. She had seen him from a distance when the Summit meeting resumed and the first ship sent through the relay. Even that had been a week ago now._

_“I’m still shaky,” Kaidan said._

_“Me too.” Shepard held out her palm, fingertips quivering. “Glad to live through a nuclear explosion, but dammit.” She tried to laugh, but it strangled in her throat._

_With a deep breath, Kaidan folded his arms and looked her full in the face. “Hey, I --”_

_“You’re leaving?” No reason to drag out the inevitable. She didn’t like an elephant in the room especially when it was with Kaidan. “Departure is tomorrow?”_

_Kaidan paused as if that was a different direction than he’d planned. “Right.”_

_“This is goodbye then?”_

_The lump of steel grew inside her until it compressed her lungs. Kaidan’s eyes dropped, and he nodded. The Terminus System was as far away as someone could go, and tomorrow a company of Alliance warships would depart to retake Orian Station and start reconstruction on the relay there. It would be years. Without the relay’s comm buoys functioning to connect them, even a comm call was off the table. The Alliance would communicate with Kaidan by linked QECs, but that wasn’t anything that helped her. Shepard twisted back to the ocean and clutched the railing._

_“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He came up beside her._

_The wind stung her eyes. “What is it?”_

_“Back at Garrus’s party--”_

_“I said I was sorry. What I said, I didn’t mean it. Not didn’t mean to say it. Didn’t mean it.”_

_“I--I know. I believe you.”_

_“Then why are you still caught up about it?” She turned to face him. “Don’t be angry at me over it.”_

_“I’m not.”_

_“You’re not?” She pressed her lips. “Really?”_

_“No, I promise.”_

_This wasn’t how she wanted their good bye to go, rehashing their fight from weeks ago._

_“Then why are we still talking about it?” Shepard folded her arms._

_“No,” he said slowly, “that’s not what I was going to say.”_

_“Then what?” She sighed, then eyed him suddenly, throat tightening. “Kaidan. You’re really going?”_

_He frowned. “Opposed to what? I have orders.”_

_“Nothing.” Shepard faced the ocean. “Thought they might change their plans with your promotion, that’s all.”_

_“We have over thirty ships committed. Someone has to make the decisions.”_

_“You’re heading it?”_

_Kaidan nodded slowly. General Kaidan Alenko, this was a big step for his career. He touched her hand on the railing enough to draw her attention then pulled his fingers away quickly._

_“Look. I want to talk to you about something,” he said._

_“All right. Shoot.” Shepard drew in a full breath and faced him. Her chest fluttered. “What’s going on?”_

_Kaidan hesitantly met her eyes. “I want you to hear this from me first, and I don’t want you to think I lied to you. I told you at Garrus’s party that . . .” He blinked down at the floor. After a moment, he shifted on his feet, and lifted his eyes. He pushed on in a rushed voice. “I said Liara and I weren’t together, but we are. Now.”_

_Shepard’s grip on the railing tightened. “Oh?”_

_“I’m sorry. I wasn’t meaning to mislead you. When I said it, it was true. Things just . . . changed.”_

_“That’s good.” Shepard’s breath felt hot. “No. I’m glad for you. Both of you.”_

_“Thanks,” he whispered._

_She couldn’t look at him. Her heart pounded. The sunset blinded her._

_“You probably have a lot to get ready, I imagine,” she said._

_“Yeah.” He pushed away from the railing. “Take care, Shepard.”_

_He paused, but she didn’t trust herself to say anything. Instead she nodded into the horizon. His hand touched her back, lingering, then his footsteps echoed away. Shepard’s vision blurred. It was better this way. But it felt like getting shot in the chest._

***

Shepard sprang upright. She was on a sterile-smelling couch surrounded by the gray walls of a barrack apartment. She was still in this miserable place. That dream felt like a memory, but a memory she’d never made. That’s not how it had happened. 

Kaidan hadn’t asked her to meet him at the cafeteria to say goodbye. It had been late when he said goodbye, like he’d been putting it off. He found her on the Normandy. He brought her a gift. They’d talked about Shepard’s Laurel, the medal awarded by the Council for defeating the reapers. The medal that, now, Shepard couldn’t find anywhere in the sterile apartment, despite the Soltaire, the Galactic Unit, and all her other medals standing on the desk. She had hated the Laurel back then. She didn’t deserve it, but Kaidan had given her a different perspective. They’d joked and hugged. He hadn’t told her he was with Liara. In fact, he’d confirmed again he wasn’t with Liara. 

The last split in the timeline was ten years ago according to Becca. This dream would have happened ten years ago, two years after the reaper war. The split must have happened just before Kaidan left for the Terminus System. They’d never left the Alliance. By all records she’d read here, they’d still saved the Summit and stopped the nuclear devastation. But their relationship . . . It had ended. Really, truly ended. 

“Lexi, have I heard from Illium?” Shepard scrubbed her face.

“Admiral Alenko’s visits are only partially logged, but results have returned from your Spectre inquiry.”

“When were we both there?”

“Out of available data points, you and Admiral Alenko overlapped one time. Nos Lutius, Illium, August 22, 2192.” 

“That was a long time ago.” 

Almost seven years ago. A long time to bear a grudge. Illium had been listed as Kaidan’s home residence. It made sense now. Illium was also the epicenter of the Shadow Broker’s empire. Blood rushed in Shepard’s ears.

“Lexi?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“Is Admiral Alenko married?”

“One marriage is on record for Fleet Admiral Kaidan Alenko, Humans System Alliance.”

“To who?”

“Liara T’Soni. November 27, 2192, Thessia.”


	4. Seventeen Months

**CHAPTER 4 Seventeen Months**

The courtroom in Parliament Hall was set up in the same arrangement. Her gnome of a lawyer eagerly waved her to the defense table. The Admiral Board hadn’t entered yet. This time, she had arrived in accordance with etiquette at the proper time. She eased herself down on the seat. Her body felt stiff and her eyes ached from reading documents all morning. The problems in this galaxy were bigger than war. The documents hadn’t shed much light on the Contender and her situation facing the gavel, but it had her shed light on this place’s backwardness.

Across the hall sat the Amazon, Yoshida. She stared hard at Shepard, like issuing a challenge. There was a datapad on the table in front of Shepard with the court docket of witnesses and session breaks. Shepard grabbed it just for something else to look at other than Yoshida’s flaring nostrils. Tautum dropped down in the chair next to Shepard.

“Tautum.” 

The datapad lowered in her hand. Damn, he looked like Kaidan. It was more than the dark hair and bronzy skin. He had the same soft light in his eyes, the same vulnerable sincerity in the way he smiled at her. 

“Shepard, we need to talk.” He leaned in closer. “Let me say something for you. I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Shepard slapped the datapad on the table and turned to him.

“I’ll tell them I did it.”

“And did you?” she asked.

“I . . .” He shifted in his chair and rested his leg against her thigh. He lowered his voice. “I’ll tell them I received the transmission with the Contender’s flight plan on my datapad. I gave the information to Urdnot Wrex. I sent him files on the project and the navigation route.” 

Shepard read his clear, green eyes. “You didn’t do any of that, though, did you?”

“I know why you did it. I don’t agree with the genophage. If I had known myself . . .”

“Genophage?”

Heart flared in her blood. That was the secret project then, which led to the destruction of the Contender. No wonder the documents she read didn’t name it. Reengineering the genophage was unthinkable. In her timeline, it was considered a war crime by the Galactic Council. That wasn’t the case here apparently. The Alliance must have led the genophage project, but by inclusion of the salarians and asari in the trial, it was an inter-species collaboration. 

The Contender must have been the carrier for the new genophage. Without her interference, it would have slipped through krogan space in secret and delivered its package to Tuchanka. No wonder she had angled to intercept the transmission and then delivered the information to the krogan. That the krogan would destroy the entire ship wasn’t predictable. The Urdnot Wrex she knew wouldn’t have done that. Regardless, the krogan’s response was beyond the scope of her trial. This was about her giving them the information to take that action. 

“You’re the one who matters in all this, Shepard.” Tautum scooted his chair closer. “This war with the krogan, the quarian unrest, the rumors of someone creating a Prothean weapon . . . It’s only a matter of time before the Federacy strikes the Terminus System. We have to be ready. You’re the lynchpin for the Alliance succeeding. I’m just one person who doesn’t matter.” 

“No.” Shepard scooted away from him. His face fell. “I’m not going to let you do that. I already talked to the admirals about it off record.”

“Let me take this one for you.”

Except for the higher pitch and slower delivery, it sounded like something Kaidan would say. She side-eyed him.

“Staff Commander Lyndon Tautum,” Shepard repeated more to herself than him. In her timeline, he was a Spectre candidate. Here, he was about to throw himself on the sword in court to save her. She had looked at his service record earlier that morning. He had potential. “You just got your own command.”

“I would have stayed on the Normandy with you, if I could have.”

The records had said he had served under her. Hopefully, their history meant her rendezvousing with his ship and intercepting information was more opportunity than a set up. But, then again, she _had_ stolen his clearances to receive the messages and forward the information on to the krogan.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Shepard’s spine sharpened. Rather than make her heart beat harder, like when Kaidan said it, the words made her ill. Tautum’s eyes were green. His voice was too high pitched. His face lacked the elusive vibrancy and sharpness of Kaidan’s features. There was more: a feeling. The differences were subtle but crucial, like forgetting salt in a recipe. His words had the same texture but without any flavor. He was just a boy. 

“You don’t deserve this,” she said finally. “Don’t say anything when I speak.”

“I would have done the same thing as you anyway. Just let me--”

“Stop. Let me do the talking. You didn’t do this, I did.”

“Call to order,” Fleet Admiral Cicero said, taking his chair at the front of the dais.

The fleet admirals were in their same seats. Kaidan met Shepard’s gaze from across the room, but his expression was blank and distant. Hackett leaned in on an elbow and said something to Kaidan. He used a palm to block his words from view. Kaidan nodded idly, listening, and holding Shepard’s gaze in a passive, detached way. Tautum whispered something in her ear again, but she gave him a sharp look. He drew back with a stricken expression.

“Admiral Shepard.” Yoshida stood at the other table. “You have requested the floor. Your absence yesterday from proceedings has been noted in official court records. What you say will be considered in the context of that action.”

Shepard’s advocate leaned over to whisper to her, but she ignored him and pushed herself to her feet. “Thank you. I apologize for making everyone wait yesterday.”

“Where were you?” boomed the voice of a fleet admiral in the dais’s front row, a woman Shepard didn’t recognize.

“What I was doing is unrelated. I understand it was a disruption, and I should have been here. I can take the consequences.”

“All right.” Yoshida strolled into the center of the room. “If you’re ready to begin proceedings then --”

“I’m not.” Shepard circled around the table, and Yoshida’s eyes rounded. “I am ready to accept the consequences for whatever I’ve been charged with. I am . . . culpable. I change my plea. Commander Tautum is not culpable. He didn’t know what I was doing.”

Shepard’s lawyer jumped to his feet, but he couldn’t object against his own client confessing. He gaped, looking between her and the Board.

Yoshida drew Shepard’s attention. “And your relationship with Commander Tautum?”

Tautum gripped the table tightly as if about to stand up and answer.

“Our relationship is inconsequential. I have no comment,” Shepard said quickly.

“That’s not what you submitted before the court. Perjury in a military criminal inquest is serious.”

“I have no comment,” Shepard reiterated. “But I do want to talk about the incident.”

For the first time, one of the holograms in the corner spoke. It was a salarian.

“Can you justify causing the death of numerous salarian scientists? They were experts in bioengineering unmatched by anyone else living.”

“And justify killing asari researchers?” an asari hologram added.

“No, I’m not justifying it. It was the wrong thing to do,” Shepard said. “But likewise, it was wrong to reengineer the genophage.”

“You started a war.” One of the other fleet admirals got to his feet and pointed at her.

“No, you did.” Shepard centered herself in the middle of the room and crowded out Yoshida. “I warned the Council to not exclude the krogan but to help them. Then this? If there’s a war, it’s your own damn fault. You think the krogan wouldn’t have figured it out when the genophage came back? Were you just hoping they would believe the cure had reverted or the virus mutated on its own? The krogan aren’t idiots.”

Another fleet admiral stood, wrinkled and sun spotted. He didn’t look like a person with the bone density to chance pounding on a desk like some of the others had. He used his voice instead of a fist to drive his point across. “How dare you. A Rear Admiral! You exposed a top secret operation sanctioned by Parliament. You defied the Alliance.”

Shepard ignored him. “Bioengineering the genophage was wrong once, but twice? And now what, three times? It should be a war crime. I pushed for that at the Vancouver Summit. Why didn’t that happen?”

“The Summit was ten years ago,” a salarian said.

“If the krogan had been included in the galaxy, they wouldn’t be beating their war drums now.”

“And the vorcha?” the asari said. “They’re rumored to be joining the krogan in their war with the Alliance. They caused their own relay to be destroyed. They killed a star system, just as the krogan have now done intentionally with Arcturus. That’s a far graver crime.”

She and Kaidan hadn’t saved the vorcha’s relay in this galaxy. The vorcha’s tampering with the inner chamber while rebuilding had offset the relay’s inner balance and started a vibration in the inner beam. In her timeline, she and Kaidan had been one star system away. They used their joined biotic energy to form a barrier around the Shard and protect it from the vibrations. In the end, it was too much. The Shard was destroyed, but the mass relay was saved. 

Here, apparently, the relay had been destroyed completely, which meant the star system had gone with it. The vorcha must have shared the details of their mistake with the krogan. The krogan had used a similar method to sabotage the Arcturus relay.

“We need to help the vorcha,” Shepard said. “There have to be refugees from that system. Restoring the mass relays that are connected to outer systems should be a priority, and star systems that can’t do it themselves need help. The galaxy is at 15% restoration. Fifteen percent! It should be fifty. 

“The Terminus System’s relay connections have achieved 50%, good. The slave traffic and pirate bands stripping that sector have been suppressed, good. But there’s so much the Alliance hasn’t done elsewhere. Why is the Citadel 60% complete but with 100% of it being expensive commercialized property? Your fleets are impressive, but what about the economy and people? Look at Vancouver, Earth’s agriculture, the local business. Is there commerce of any sort that isn’t about fast money or benefiting the military. Where is the art and culture?” 

Shepard rushed the dais. “Why isn’t the Council on the damn Citadel? The Citadel should be the seat of politics, not high-end, Boardwalk real estate. Where even is the Council anymore? Interconnected comm sessions instead of Council meetings? And the asari! Forced to compensate other star systems in penance for that ancient beacon? Where’s the money going? It should be restoring Thessia, rebuilding asari colonies, regrowing their economy. It shouldn’t be going into politician’s pockets and funding lobbyists. 

“And the quarians? They suffered through a civil war. They’re being ignored like the krogan and vorcha, and we know the consequences there. And Palavan? It’s starting to fracture into colony states. Humanity itself isn’t much better. This Federacy of splintered-off Alliance colonies will eclipse the Alliance if we can’t embody all humanity can be. Listen to me. There are real problems to be solved, instead of just flexing your military power. You need to represent humanity.”

The Admiral Board stared at her in a spectrum of outraged shock to thoughtful consideration. 

“Your complaint is with the Council, Admiral,” Cicero said icily.

“My complaint is with everyone.” Shepard made a sweeping motion. “You could have accomplished more than this. If there’s war and destruction, setbacks and death, it’s all of your own making.”

“And what have you done?” snapped the ancient fleet admiral with liver spots.

Fleet Admiral Sheng stood with her dark eyes boring into Shepard. “You ride around on the Normandy, blowing things up, planting evidence, forging flight plans, bribing and manipulating. You fight slavers and stamp out petty criminals. Nothing you do matters on the scale you stand there chastising us over for not fixing. Don’t say we could have done more. You try accomplishing any of that with all the moving pieces, with a hundred delegates and a hundred viewpoints. Try to balance economic constraints with security threats, galactic politics with local needs, realistic barriers with untested visions. How dare you say anything at all to us.”

“I know it’s hard, but I also know it’s possible.”

“You’re too busy raining down bullets to be the voice of anything.” Admiral Hart slammed a palm on his desk, jowls jiggling, and dabbed his forehead with a tissue. “You don’t build up, you destroy. You’re a hypocrite.”

Admiral Sheng stared down at her with a scowl. “You only know how to win wars, not prevent them. Of course, you’d encourage a confrontation with the krogan by doing this with the Contender. You can’t win a war and be a hero again, if there isn’t something grander than red sand dealers and slavers to defeat.”

“Let the message stand for itself, instead of judging it by the messenger. You must do better than this. Regardless,” Shepard said at last. “I’ve adjusted my plea. I’m culpable. Please, don’t pursue charges against Commander Tautum. He’s innocent. There. I am closing my comment now.”

She strode back to her seat at the table. Yoshida stood stupefied against the wall with a datapad frozen in her hands. The Admiral Board murmured and whispered among each other.

Cicero stood with a severe expression. “The Admiral Board will consider this new information and deliver a decision on sentencing. We will adjourn for the day.”

The fleet admirals rose and started to gather their things. Kaidan didn’t look in her direction. He rose stiffly, grabbed his datapad, and strode out the side door. Hackett gave her a restrained smile from across the room and tipped his head in her direction. Then he filed out himself. Now, she only needed to await her sentencing tomorrow, and then her plans could begin in earnest. 

***

She hadn’t expected the Alliance guards at the docking gate to allow her aboard, but she was still disappointed. Without a pilot or crew, being aboard the ship didn’t increase her flight risk. They could be concerned with her sabotaging something, or perhaps, her officer privileges had already been suspended pending the decision of the Admiral Board.

Shepard lingered by the loading gate and gazed out from the empty docking terminal. Sunlight shone off the hull of the Normandy. She could remember the deck under her feet, the clicking sound of navigation equipment, the smell of recycled air. The Normandy was Vega’s ship now, not hers. It had been that way for ten years. Ironic, in this upside down world where she had lost so much, the one thing she hadn’t lost was the Normandy.

Shepard settled onto a bench facing the window. She had found her Omni-Tool, a black sock, and a smashed OSD card in a box sitting inside the door to her quarters. The OSD card may have had interesting information, but it was ground into pieces. Strange it was even returned. It must be a message in itself, but one she wasn’t privy to fully interpreting. 

Shepard checked the messages on her Omni-Tool. Still nothing from Miranda. An alert in the corner of her screen brought up an outside email account, private, not Alliance. The message was short and terse:

_“You’ve crossed me twice now.”_

Shepard shifted in her seat. The message gave her an uneasy feeling. She glanced around the dimly lit dock. No one. The message was unmarked without a listed sender. 

There was a second message from an “Azrael”:

_“I know a guy in Sol. Decide you want out of that mess, let me know.”_

She didn’t respond and exited out of the private inbox. She thumbed through the Alliance database’s records with her previous mission reports. She had time to kill while locked down inside Alliance HQ and awaiting her sentencing. 

The sky was bright with late afternoon sun. Shepard slouched in her seat and brought up the first report. Five reports later, her eyes slid shut.

***

_“Sleep here, Shepard.” Liara led Shepard into a tall glass apartment._

_Shepard gawked at the sprawling platinum kitchen and the living room’s towering glass ceiling. The apartment was three stories with the floor’s terraces overlooking the living room. Through the enormous windowed walls, one of Illium’s lakes sparkled in the twilight. Urban traffic glittered in the city around them._

_“Liara.” Shepard dropped her duffle bag and turned in a wide circle to take it all in. “I don’t think the Primarch himself owns an apartment like this.”_

_“He is a turian. He lives in a metal shelter, likely without windows. More defensible. I’m not a turian though. Illium is about luxury and excess. There isn’t a camera on this planet that isn’t also the eye of the Shadow Broker. It can be quite lucrative.”_

_Liara gilded around Shepard and down the steps into a sunken living room with a furry, white rug. The type of animal wasn’t one Shepard could identify, but it was impressive in size. A nice trophy if the animal was a predator, though, it was unlikely Liara had done more than pay a designer for it._

_“Sure you have room for me?” Shepard smirked._

_“You may take a whole floor.”_

_“Generous.” Shepard gazed at the passing skycars and clouds uncurling in the distance. “Shadow Broker business is building back up again, I take it?”_

_“It’s taken over a year to reestablish myself on Thessia. Now I’m here, my connections go even deeper. Perhaps I’ll never attain what I lost, but it will be a start.”_

_“Damn good start if you're living here.”_

_Over three and a half years since the war, and Illium was as connected as if it had never been cut off. The Sol relay had only been repaired a year and a half ago. As one of the wealthiest asari colonies, Illium had spared no expense in connecting its relay network back to Thessia. Investors and merchants bloated with credits and desperate to avoid being trapped had hired the galaxy’s finest engineers, both private and commercial. The allocated resources were unprecedented. It was the biggest success story of rebuilding so far, their mass relay repaired in under a year._

_Liara stood at Shepard’s shoulder. “Nos Astra is beautiful. Nos Lutius more so. I purchased property along the shore to build a house.”_

_“Nos Lutius? Saw a few snooty war rebuilding committee meetings being hosted there. Must be high end.” Shepard pivoted to Liara. “Thanks for hosting the Normandy’s crew tonight. We needed something fun for liberty rotation. Makes the twenty-four hours worth it. Between Palavan’s dispute with their outer colonies and Thessia dragging its feet on the Citadel agreement, we needed a chance to stretch our legs. Life’s gotten boring. I miss the stray slaver ship. Used to always catch them creeping in from the Terminus System when I came this direction.”_

_“Slavery is legal here, Shepard.”_

_“Unfortunately, yes. Taking your slaves from colonies or passenger vessels still is not. I used to see a ship with a warrant out for it at least once on my trip to Illium. That’s not to mention finding another one on the way back. These last few months though . . .”_

_“The Terminus System has become very quiet.” Liara stepped away from the glass. It had been a year and half since Kaidan disappeared with a battalion of warships headed to the Terminus System._

_“There used to be chains of slaver ships relaying captives from the Attican Transverse into the Terminus System,” Shepard said. “With the mass relays down, it had to be organized. Too far for one ship to go back and forth. Made easy pickings for me passing through the Transverse, but now . . .”_

_“Yes, that makes sense.” Liara smiled tightly._

_“Well.” Shepard clapped her hands and looked up at the terraces overhead. “I suppose 0500 is going to be here before I know it. I’ll take the second floor.”_

_“You will have to share it with me. My room is on that level.”_

_“Perfect. I know where to run when I have one of my reaper nightmares.” Shepard snagged her duffle bag off the floor and looked around for the staircase._

_“There, Shepard.” Liara indicated a hallway on the other side of the room._

_“Ah. You really should give out brochures with a map of this place.”_

_Liara’s lips lifted at the corners, but she didn’t say anything. Shepard paused at the mouth of the hallway._

_“All right,” Shepard said. “Thanks for everything. Really. I’m picking a random room. If you need me yell ‘Marco.’”_

_“You know I don’t know what that means.”_

_“Just yell it. I’ll answer. You don’t need to know more than that.” Shepard backed away._

_Liara twisted her hands together, hesitated, then took a halting step forward. “Shepard.”_

_Shepard stopped, just starting to turn down the hall. “What?”_

_Liara’s footsteps came softly up behind her. “Have you heard? The Terminus System’s comm buoy is functional again.”_

_Shepard turned slowly. “No. Not that I’ve heard. Why?”_

_“It wasn’t a question.” Liara twisted her hands together with increasing strain. “Or perhaps it was a question, but I wasn’t asking you if the comm buoy was online. I know it is.”_

_“You know how?” Shepard set her bag down._

_“Then you’ve heard nothing?” Liara watched Shepard closely._

_Shepard frowned. “No. I just said as much.”_

_“Oh.” Liara blinked and a degree of stiffness drained from her posture. “Then you haven’t heard anything from the Terminus System yourself. Personally.”_

_“How do you know the Terminus’s comm buoy is back up? Your sources?”_

_“Yes and no. I heard it from the Alliance officers station on Illium.”_

_“Rumors.” Shepard shrugged._

_“More than rumors. I talked to one of the men myself. His sister is lieutenant commander on the Arctic. He received a call from her last week. She said private communication is restricted right now. Limited bandwidth. Communication is reserved for Alliance Command and the Council. It’s part of the reason I thought perhaps you may have heard something.”_

_“If the Alliance knows, I haven’t been told. But they might not think it’s relevant to me.” Shepard chewed her lip. “This officer was contacted by his sister? Was she ignoring restrictions?”_

_“No. Every Alliance service member assigned to the Terminus System was allowed one personal call. Other than that, it’s been restricted to official channels.”_

_“Contact one person?” Shepard echoed. Her hands itched to check her Omni-Tool. She gripped her wrist instead and kept her hands in front of her. Her mind raced. “I haven’t heard anything. Did the officer in Illium say if . . . Have there been casualties?”_

_“He wasn’t concerned with that information. He could tell me nothing other than his sister’s status and the most basic information. The Alliance retook Orian Station and has been under heavy attack from criminal elements trying to preserve the Terminus System’s lawlessness. He didn’t know anything else.”_

_“All right.” Shepard nodded to the floor then forced a quick smile. “I’m sure we’ll hear soon then. Anything else before I go up?”_

_Liara gave a sad smile but shook her head quickly. “That is all.”_

_“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.” Shepard lifted her bag and started up the staircase._

_Liara stood silhouetted against the falling light on Nos Astra horizon. “Good night, Shepard.”_

_***_

_Shepard tossed and turned in bed. Moons glowed in the window making the room too bright. She tore back the sweaty sheets and twisted to sit on the edge of the bed. Her Omni-Tool was on the nightstand. She checked it again. Nothing. Not even a single text-based message. One line even would be enough. It wouldn’t take any “bandwidth” at all to send something so small and simple._

_Then again, if there were rules about it and everyone had that mindset . . . That’s what he would say. Heading the operation, he’d set the example. Even a single word by text would break his moral conscience on enforcing it with others. The thought didn’t stop her from checking her spam filter just in case. There were refinancing options for high-rises and skycar loan advertisements but nothing from Kaidan._

_She pulled the sheets back to her chin to attempt round two when she heard movement. She was beside the door with her pistol ready before remembering where she was. She wasn’t alone. The movement was probably Liara. She said her room was on the same floor._

_Shepard slid open her door and peeked out. Light filled the end of the hallway from an open doorway. A shadow moved across the floor. Shepard’s fingers tightened on her gun. Liara was the Shadow Broker. She could have enemies. Best to confirm it was only Liara before returning to bed._

_Shepard slipped along the wall with the pistol pressed to her shoulder. A male voice spoke. Shepard froze in place. The deep voice raised a swell of warm memories and emotion. The pistol dropped to her side, and she stalked toward the light._

_The door was partially closed, but the bright sliver was enough to see into the room. It was an office space. Bookshelves lined the wall holding a database of glass datapads. Liara had her back to the door. Her sloppily-buttoned jacket clashed with her pants. But it was the image on the desk's holoscreen that cut straight into Shepard’s chest. It was Kaidan._

_Shepard fumbled, almost dropping her gun, and pressed back against the edge of the doorframe. From this angle, he would only see the doorframe, but she had a slanted view of the screen. His hair was styled the same as always, same healthy olive skin, uniform pressed and crisp. He looked the same as the last day she saw him on the balcony outside HQ, a year and half ago now. When he smiled, it turned her insides to knots. Liara bustled around the room and flicked on the desk lamp beside the screen._

_“Liara, I could already see you. You don’t need every light on.”_

_“Uh, I suppose.”_

_Shepard ducked back as Liara turned. There was the sound of a chair dragging across the floor. Shepard edged forward again for a full view of the screen. Liara was now sitting in front of it. She sat primly with a straightened back and hands folded in her lap._

_“How are you?” he asked._

_“I am in excellent health.”_

_Kaidan laughed and leaned back in his chair. He was at a desk, too, with a plain wall of metal behind him._

_“Why’s that funny?” Liara asked, sitting up even straighter, as if possible._

_“Do you really think I was inquiring after your health?”_

_“You wouldn’t be concerned if I was in poor health?”_

_“What?” Kaidan’s forehead scrunched, but he smiled. He shook his head as if to clear it, then sat forward and folded his hands on the desk. “I’ll just start over. The Orian buoy is operational again as you can see.”_

_“I heard rumors.”_

_“Yes, well . . .” Kaidan touched his chin._

_He had a five o’clock shadow. Shepard remembered how the graininess felt against her cheek in the mornings, how it sandpapered her tongue when she was making him moan. She shivered and pushed the memory away._

_“We’re off schedule,” Kaidan said. “We’ve had heavier resistance than anticipated. Lost two ships. Lost a whole spec ops squad on the moon off Astril IV taking out a smugglers’ base.”_

_Liara slid to the edge of her chair. “And progress on the Orian mass relay?”_

_“Off schedule too. The criminal leaders in the sector have been targeting our engineers. We lost . . .” He looked down for a moment and shifted in his chair. He lifted his eyes with a dark expression. “Well . . . a lot. Internal sabotage. Nothing I was expecting.”_

_“The relay is considerably off schedule then?”_

_Kaidan’s breath drained out in a long sigh, and he met her eyes. “Yes.”_

_“That is unfortunate.” Liara wrung her fingers in her lap. It was probably below the level Kaidan could see on the screen._

_“We’ve taken out the dominant slaver gangs in the area, and we’ve stabilized the local sector. At least, internally. So, we’ve made progress. Just not as much as we would have liked with the relay or the comm buoy. The buoy is up now though. All lines of communication have been opened.”_

_“Oh.” Liara’s reflection in the dark window showed a brittle smile. “Have you been contacting others?”_

_Shepard slapped a hand on her wrist, but her Omni-Tool was on the nightstand in her room._

_“Not yet,” Kaidan said. “I mean, I talked to my mom last week. We had limited personal communication as the buoy came fully online.”_

_“Your mother?” The tension in Liara’s shoulders melted. “Then you haven't talked to anyone yet?”_

_“Why?” Kaidan hunched forward with a heavy frown. “Has something happened?”_

_“No,” Liara said in a rush. “Nothing like that.”_

_“Oh.” Kaidan relaxed his back and sat easier in his chair. “All right. I just . . . I wanted to talk to you.”_

_“Oh?” Liara squirmed on the edge of her seat._

_“I want to know how you’re doing. You know, aside from your excellent health. How have things been? Are you still in Thessia?”_

_“Illium,” Liara said. Her head turned part way toward the door, and Shepard ducked back for a second. “Shepard is here, staying with me.”_

_“Right now?”_

_“The Normandy is docked. She’s been on a mission for the Council. Recruitment for a drell Spectre, though she didn’t tell me that.”_

_“Hmm.” Kaidan ran a hand down his jaw again. “Interesting.”_

_“Would you like to speak with her? I can --”_

_“No.”_

_Liara’s chair squeaked, her face whipping back to the screen. Shepard moved closer, her heart starting to pound._

_“No?” Liara asked._

_“I’ll send Shepard a message or something later. I called to talk to you.” Kaidan studied his palms, then straightened his back and looked up. “Look. I--I don’t expect anything from you. It’s been a year and a half. There weren’t any promises. But, I . . .” He swallowed and refolded his hands. “It’s not Shepard I’ve thought about for seventeen months.”_

_Liara’s spine straightened like an over taut wire. The air in Shepard’s lungs choked her. The words repeated over and over in her head. Kaidan studied Liara’s face, his breathing coiled and tight. The window showed Liara’s reflection gazing at the screen with wide, searching eyes. A smile broke on her lips. It brightened until every feature in her face was touched by it._

_“Kaidan.” Liara drew her chair closer to the desk. “I’ve thought about you for seventeen months also.”_

_Kaidan’s breath leaked out. “Yeah?”_

_“Yes.” Liara nodded vigorously and bit her lip._

_Kaidan’s smile glowed in his eyes, and he hunched forward. “I’ve missed you. I wish I was there right now.”_

_Liara pressed her palm to the corner of the screen and sniffled. Kaidan’s eyes dropped to the bottom of the screen. Grinning even wider, he put his palm to the screen under hers. Shepard reared backward._

_She stalked back to her room, gun dangling from her fingertips, and slid the door shut quietly. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She slit her blurry eyes enough to see her Omni-Tool on the nightstand, dark and unblinking._

***

Shepard woke with a start. She was still in the docking bay laying on a stiff bench. Her heart pounded from spying on Liara and Kaidan. Liara and Kaidan. Her gut twisted. 

The Normandy stretched outside the window in a silver sheen of falling sunlight. The datapad she had been reading lay upside down on the floor. When she reached for it, she saw the boots standing behind the bench.

“Admiral,” said a familiar voice.

“Joker!” Shepard spun around. “Hey. How long have you been there?”

“Uh, I was looking at the Normandy, not you. Don’t act all weirded out.” 

He came around the bench, slow, but without the help of crutches or a brace. He must have received the same bone hardening therapies here as he had in her world. He looked the same. Same ratty baseball cap, slightly wrinkled uniform, and a sarcastic, curling grin.

“Don’t you have, like, a trial or something going on?” he asked.

“Decided to cut to the chase. I confessed.”

“What?” Joker froze.

“It’s all true, isn’t it?” Shepard twisted on the edge of the bench to face him. “They’ve deliberated and agreed I’m culpable. Got the message hours ago. The punitive sentencing part is tomorrow.”

“What about our mission to Theda? What about that pirate base off Boltum? I mean, sure, we gotta wait til the relay’s not shooting sparks and losing bolts, but . . .”

“I’ll take my ten lashes. I might get my feathers trimmed a little, but then we can go.” 

She didn’t plan on going to Theda. She didn’t plan on going to Boltum. She was going to find a black Mass Effect Shard and go home. 

“Why’d you tell them all that stuff?” Joker asked.

“It was the right thing to do.” That, and she needed the trial to be over. Shepard followed Joker’s gaze to the Normandy looming on the other side of the glass. “Things have been all right aboard the Normandy? I mean, with me? The last few years.”

Joker gave her a funny look. “Uh, you want my opinion?”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“Been freakin’ awesome. We finish all that crap no one else will touch. You do good work, Admiral. Whatever they’re saying in that trial, forget about it. What do they know, right? We get it done.”

“On the sly?” Shepard qualified. “We’re doing this stuff under the radar?”

Joker frowned and looked around them. He answered vaguely. “Maybe.”

“Saw some old reports.” Shepard tapped her datapad. “Looked falsified.”

Joker stared at her but didn’t say anything. Some of the reports were his flight plans and operation readouts, but she didn’t need to point that out. He knew by the way he was looking at her.

“Anyway,” Shepard said and stood. “Probably best we get reined in.”

“Your un-reined stuff has saved the Alliance’s ass for years. Why’re you doubting it now? They force feeding you KoolAid at that thing? Make you re-watch orientation videos?”

“There are better ways.”

Footsteps echoed behind her. Joker’s eyes shifted to something over her shoulder. His posture went rigid. Someone was coming down the hallway toward them. It was Kaidan.

“I’ll be back,” Shepard said quickly.

Kaidan slowed in the hallway as Shepard approached.

“Spectre Alenko,” Shepard said. “I’m going with the less syllables.”

“Admiral,” he acknowledged.

“I suppose since it’s you running into me than visa versa, it’s not inappropriate?” She put fists on her hips.

“The hearing is concluded.”

“I see.” Shepard pursed her lips and nodded. She let her eyes wander around the hallway before turning back to him. “Need something?”

He gave her a dull look then backed away. “Took the wrong hall.”

“Oh, come on.” Shepard trotted after him. “You looked right at me coming down this hall. I’m just giving you a hard time, Fleet Admiral Spectre Alenko.”

“Funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. Just trying to break through this . . . whatever it is.”

Kaidan stopped abruptly and turned to her. “You confessed. Why?”

“Came to my senses.”

“Is something wrong with your health? You ran off to see Miranda.”

“Ask her if you’re so curious.”

“She wouldn’t say.”

He folded his arms. He looked just like her Kaidan. His deep voice was the same. The words coming out, though, were different. His tone was sharp, and his posture stiff. He wasn’t really Kaidan. As long as she remembered that, he couldn’t hurt her. Despite his cold eyes, it felt good standing in front of him and holding his gaze. He was the only lifeline to what she wanted back.

“Are you okay?” he said finally.

“I’m . . . healthy,” she decided.

“Okay.” He glanced down the hall and shifted on his feet, then finally looked back at her. “You did the right thing letting Tautum go. If he shakes this, he can still have a successful career.”

“I hope he does.”

He eyed her. “You realize there’s prison in this? You do know that?”

Shepard’s chest went cold. She tried not to let the feeling touch her face, but the flutter of panic made her lips tighten. She wasn’t going to reach a Shard in prison. Not returning home was the one sentence she couldn’t stomach.

“Not every prison has bars,” she said at last.

“Apply to the Council. You’re a Spectre. If the Alliance gives you dishonorable discharge along with prison, that’s your loophole. You might lose the Alliance and the Normandy, but you won’t waste away in a detention cell.”

“You’re giving me advice?”

It was clever. Spectre immunity didn’t exist within the confines of the Alliance. She’d sworn herself under the authority of military law. Once the Alliance discharged her, though, she was no longer a sworn Alliance officer. She was only a Spectre. A military court could imprison officers and civilians, but like the governing body of any Council race, they couldn’t imprison an independent Spectre. Without pressure from the Council, though, the Alliance would steamroll her advocating that angle for herself. They’d throw her in prison without anyone to stop them.

“You’re giving me your get-out-of-jail-free card,” Shepard said. “Parliament will close that loophole once they know it’s there. The next Spectre on trial won’t be discharged from service, just sentenced.”

“I won’t need it.”

“But to give it to me?”

“You did the right thing for Tautum, and you got Dallon medical help from the guards. The paperwork blocked me from helping him.”

“Dallon? The man in detention with me. You know him?”

“I knew his circumstances.”

The detention guard said a superior officer was trying to get the man transferred. Other L2s held special place in Kaidan’s heart. He saw himself in them if fate had decided differently. 

“Dallon and Tautum can’t be the only reason you’re helping me.”

“They’re not. You’re a Spectre. You did great things once.” Kaidan stepped away. “I hope you have come to your senses.”

He disappeared down the hall. Shepard wandered back to the Normandy’s docking gate. Joker was still there on the bench. He squinted past her at Kaidan’s retreating form.

“He thinks I should petition the Council so I don’t end up in prison,” she said.

“How was he?” Joker asked.

“Kaidan? Fine, I guess. Hates me.”

“I haven’t seen him since . . . you know.”

“Know what?”

Joker eyeballed her. “You know. Since Liara.”

“Since Liara what?”

Joker’s stare turned cold. He adjusted the bill of his baseball cap and turned back to the ship.

“What?” Shepard said.

“Since she died, Shepard. That’s what.”

***

The lights flicked on automatically when Shepard entered her quarters. She shuffled into the center of the room lost in a daze.

“Lexi?” Her voice came out scratchy.

“Yes, Admiral?”

“What’s the status of Liara T’Soni?”

“Deceased.”

Lead pooled inside Shepard’s chest. “How? When?”

“April 3rd, 2199, Orian Station, Terminus System. Cause of death: traumatic blunt force injury.”

“What caused the injury?”

“A riot on Orian Station on April 2nd, 2199, resulted in thirteen casualties. Dr. Liara T’Soni was the most noteworthy fatality.”

April was five months ago. Shepard sank onto the edge of the couch’s armrest. She was afraid to ask the next question, but she needed to know.

“Where was I?” 

“You were located in Vancouver, Earth, Sol System, on April 3rd, 2199.”

“And the days before?”

“The same.”

“I wasn’t involved in the riots?”

“Negative. No known connection.”

“What caused them?”

“Information released publically from sources close to the Shadow Broker resulted in unprecedented unrest throughout the Terminus System.”

“Liara . . .” Shepard put her forehead in her hands. Her eyes burned. It wasn’t her Liara, the real Liara, but the pain felt real. “Liara . . .”


	5. Sentencing

**CHAPTER 5 The Sentencing**

Shepard stared at the wall in her barracks, muscles frozen, and body feeling far away. The door to her quarters chimed. Shepard broke free from her trance and checked the time. It was too early for her escort to be here and lead her to the sentencing. Shepard shuffled to the door.

“Shepard.” Miranda pivoted in her doorway. Well-groomed and bright-eyed, her perky demeanor was grating for 0300.

“Miranda?”

“Rough night?” Miranda pointed at her hair and then vaguely swirled her finger down the full length of Shepard’s body. She squinted at Shepard’s face. “Crying? Now I do believe you aren’t the real Shepard.”

Shepard rubbed the back of her sleeve against her face. “I heard something upsetting.”

“Hmm. You seem to be at the end of your rope. Heard you confessed. Now they’ll toss you out of the Allinace into a prison cell.”

“I’m going to appeal to the Council for help.”

“So, there is some plan. Good. May I?” Miranda motioned at the room behind Shepard.

Shepard stepped aside to let her pass. “You ignored my messages.”

“Eezo in the air, electricity, and Shard dust. I got the message.”

“Oh, well, then.” Shepard knotted her arms. “You know, there’s this button that, when you hover over it, says ‘reply.’”

Miranda glanced around the room with unimpressed, bored scrutiny before turning back to Shepard. “I ran simulations on that neural blockade you mentioned. With titarium, it might be possible to build a biotic activator precise enough to distinguish individual nodules. I spoke to my science project manager. I think it might work.”

“Thrilled you think so.”

“Also, I took a look at that chemical formula. It would need a monoclonal protein carrier, both able to slip through the blood-brain barrier but also fuse with the correct neural cells.”

“I said that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” Miranda pursed her lips. She ran her fingers along the back of the couch and perched on the armrest. “I think perhaps I may be persuaded to believe you. About your time travel.”

“It’s not time travel.” Shepard wearily flopped on the other end of the couch. “What sort of further persuasion do you need?”

Miranda twisted to face her. “I’m not sure. What more can you give me?”

“Give you?” Shepard blurted. “This proprietary biotic scalpel will win awards, right? That’s not enough? You only need to get the guardians of your terminally-ill test subjects to sign a waiver. Then you can be on magazine covers when the first one lives past the expected cut off.”

“Harsh.” Miranda eyed her, then slid down onto the couch cushions. “How do you know neuronal blockade and organic chemistry? This means something to you.”

“Are you going to help me get home or not?” Shepard settled her head against the top of the couch. 

“You said you had a child. You’re knowledgeable of the technique and know the drug needed to treat eezo nodule cancer, even down to the formula. You’re touchy and defensive. Upset for the parents. You conceived with another biotic, didn’t you? In this hypothetical other reality of yours.”

“Romantic.” Shepard rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, I conceived with another biotic.”

“Then it was a relationship. Unplanned, I hope? You couldn’t be that stupid.”

“Could you be less nosey?” Shepard said with an edge. “It was before the risk was recognized mainstream.”

“Then the child is older?” Miranda nested back into the cushions. “Tell me. Did the treatment method work immediately? Any failures? Unanticipated setbacks in implementation?”

“Nothing horrific.” Shepard’s mouth went dry, and she studied the ceiling. “Avyn -- my ‘hypothetical’ daughter -- can’t close the fingers on her right hand, a result of one of the surgeries. She lost her sense of smell. Lost vision in her left eye. Not correctable, since it’s not the eye itself, but some area of the brain. You said . . .” Shepard swallowed dryly. “You said it won’t come back. Between the depth perception and her right hand, she’s clumsy.”

Miranda considered it, tapping a fingernail on her lips. “That’s all workable. The protein carrier for this drug. Do you--”

“Stop.” Shepard covered her face with both hands. “Either you believe me or not. Can’t you see this upsets me?”

“I don’t know why. If this procedure has been effective . . .”

“Because I don’t know when it will stop being effective or what more she’ll lose.” Shepard’s face burned against her palms. She spoke through her hands. “I’ve spent eight years terrified, Miranda. Terrified this might be her last summer or last Christmas. I wonder when I see my niece’s prom pictures if I’ll have the chance to help Avyn pick out her dress. Will I ever see her on stage getting her diploma? Will she visit from college and introduce us to some person she’s wildly in love, who her dad will hate on principle? Will she ever be my age, the age I am right now?” 

Shepard dropped her hands, eyelashes sticky. “I wonder if someday the procedure won’t take away the eyesight in one eye, but her ability to walk or to speak or to remember. I feel guilty. I was irresponsible. We shouldn’t have had a child. We should have looked into it and not been so damn ignorant. Maybe if I’d talked to you. I’m glad for her now, but I know if she dies, it will be my fault.”

Shepard launched off the couch and shot into the bedroom. She smashed the close button on the bedroom door, but Miranda caught the sliding door. 

Fire exploded in Shepard’s chest. “Just leave me--”

“I believe you.”

Shepard’s hand fell from the door’s close button. “What?”

Miranda folded her arms and sized Shepard up and down. “I don’t know how, or if it can be fixed, but . . . I believe you.”

“Then you’ll help me?”

“Let’s make a plan.”

***

“Lexi, send the message. All four councilors.” Shepard sat at her desk facing the computer.

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Shepard.” Miranda tapped the coffee table with her fingertips to get Shepard’s attention. “I don’t know about this.”

Shepard swiveled to face her. “In three hours, I’m getting drawn and quartered. If I want to get home, I can’t be sitting in a prison cell.”

“You won’t get home without your ship either. You needed it to find a Shard.”

“Well. I can’t fix that part, can I?” Shepard dropped onto the couch beside Miranda.

“Can you retract your confession?”

“It’s too late. I’m already found guilty. Culpable or whatever. This is just sentencing. Besides, that boy -- my co-defendant -- he was going to confess himself.” Shepard hunched over a datapad on the coffee table and brought up a galaxy map.

“You should have let him.”

“He didn’t do it.” 

“Neither did you.”

“Let’s move on.” Shepard expanded the area of space around Tuchanka. “There’s a dormant relay here. In my timeline, that’s how I got exposed to the Shard particles. In this timeline, that Shard should still be intact. The relay is a well-kept clan leader secret.”

Miranda scooted to the edge of the couch and narrowed her eyes on it. Shepard pointed her finger to an area toward the outer edge of the system and opposite the active mass relay.

“Then if you can get to that relay, you’ll have a Mass Effect Shard, your missing ingredient,” Miranda said.

“Exactly. From Becca’s research, after the Crucible fired, it touched all the shards in the active relays. It changed them, turned them red. They don’t have the same resonance. Her theory is that they don’t interact with the other dimension. If so, I need an untainted shard. A dormant relay will have a black Mass Effect Shard.”

“Untainted.” Miranda frowned. “The Shepard here was exposed to Shard particles from the Sol relay. The Sol relay, more than any of them, was a conduit for the Crucible’s energy.”

“True, but,” Shepard twisted to face her, “you remember the state of Sol’s relay? It funneled the most energy from the Crucible. The Mass Effect Shard was destroyed.”

“It was replaced.”

“Correct. From a dormant relay. It’s an untainted Shard. Black. That's the Shard my alter ego fractured. It’s the only black Shard in an active relay. That means, if I don’t use Sol’s Shard, I need one from a dormant relay.”

“Sol’s Shard?” Miranda said with an edge and side eyed Shepard. “I don’t want to be stranded in Sol, Shepard. You destroy Sol’s fractured Shard, and especially now with Arcturus destroyed, our system will be cut off.”

“I’m not going to finish off Sol’s Shard to get particles on me,” Shepard said tiredly, though in truth, she had considered it. Miranda would never support that route, though, and Shepard needed Miranda’s help. “Anyway, the Tuchanka dormant relay will work.”

“Except it’s by Tuchanka. The Alliance is at war with the krogan.”

“Dormant relays are rare. Extremely rare. In my timeline, the Alliance doesn’t know of any. Neither does the Council. Other species may know of dormant relays, but that information is secret, especially with the Shards now being usable as weapons. This is the only one I know about. Wrex was helping me repair the vorcha’s relay. That’s why he told me about this one. Honestly, I think he only gave this one up, because the krogan know of at least one other in their system. No idea where though, and this one will work.”

“Eezo, biotic and electrical energy, and Shard particles,” Miranda mused. “You’ll shatter the Shard and then what? Come back to my laboratory for the electricity and eezo? Eezo’s a problem.”

Shepard didn’t intend to come back here at all. Returning to Sol would be one more hurdle between her and Home. 

“The Shard can only be shattered in the relay’s beam. Otherwise, it’s nearly indestructible. The particles wear off unpredictably and fast in my skin,” Shepard said. “I think we need to find a way for me to use eezo and electricity in the field.” Once she had the particle on her skin, she was going home immediately.

Miranda eyed her. “Aerosolizing eezo is illegal. I’m not permitted to do it in a lab setting, and you certainly can’t do it outside of one. Aerosolizing eezo is incredibly complicated, even if we did ignore the law.”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be aerosolized. We can figure that out later. I’ve decided to offer the Alliance a deal, which should provide me transport here.” Shepard tapped the black space near Tuchanka. 

“The deal you need is more than a ship. You need permission through the Sol relay. The Shard’s about to break. It will happen on the next activation or the few after. The only ship that gets through is one that’s going to fix the relay.”

“And that will be the deal I strike with the Alliance.”

Miranda’s expression darkened. “I told you I don’t want to be stranded in Sol, Shepard. If you use one of the relay’s few remaining activations, you’ll waste the passage of a ship which truly could fix the relay.”

This was the part Shepard had been dreading. A lie. It was the only way to get Miranda’s support. 

“Becca’s research showed Mass Effect Shards naturally shed particles.” If that was true Shepard’s mission would be much easier. She continued the lie. “The dormant relay’s Shard won’t need to be shattered to get the particles in my skin. Being exposed to it by prolonged touch should be enough. I can return to Sol with the Shard, fix the relay, and then beam home.”

Miranda’s eyes thinned. She studied Shepard with pointed scrutiny. Shepard kept her face neutral, but felt her heartbeat quicken. She was betraying Miranda. She didn’t plan on returning with the Shard. It did need to shatter, or least irreparable fracture, for her to get exposed to the particles. 

“How do you know you can extract the Shard from the beam without breaking it?” Miranda said. “Neither in this timeline nor your own have you succeeded. You accomplished it ten years ago, but now . . .”

“I can extract it,” Shepard said confidently and rose to her feet. “I know what I did wrong now.” She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. She needed to shatter it, not extract it, and shattering it was easy. “I know exactly what to do, Miranda.” 

Miranda crossed her legs and rested back on the couch. “As long as you repair the Sol relay, then I support your crazy plan.”

“A win-win,” Shepard said, but it would be far from that. “It would still be nice to have a remote way of using eezo and electricity, like I said. Something Omni-Tool based maybe.” Miranda seemed about to object, but Shepard held up a hand. “The Shard residue fades fast, especially when it’s not embedded from shattering the Shard and just rubbed off. I need a way to transport home fast once the new Shard is installed in Sol’s relay. I can’t wait for the laboratory.”

In truth, once she shattered the Shard inside Tuchanka’s dormant relay, she’d need a way home she could use right then. If the lie was convincing enough, Miranda would help her figure something out.

The terminal on her desk blinked, and Shepard walked over to it. It was a message from Sparatus’s Council office on Palavan. Her heart sank reading it.

“Recess? The offices are closed for the damn holiday.” Shepard threw a stylus against the wall and rocked back in her chair. 

As human councilor, she had been thrilled for the holiday. Two months off from political ass-kissing and dragging meetings. Two months with Kaidan and Avyn at home by the sea. Well, two months with Kaidan when he wasn’t on a mission. Now, though, this damned holiday recess was biting her in the ass. She had automated messages from Ilk’s office and Wilson’s office. If Tevos received the message there was no sign of it.

“By the time the Council’s back to intervene on my behalf, I’ll already be two months behind bars.” Shepard rubbed her face. 

She couldn’t be in prison. The Council wouldn’t contradict the Alliance at that point. It would be too late. It had to be at the time of sentencing.

Miranda came behind her. “That’s unfortunate. How much prison time are they considering? Five to ten years? More? With good behavior perhaps you’d even--”

“I’m not waiting five to ten years to go home,” Shepard snapped and pushed away from the desk. “I need to get out of Vancouver. Escape. Let’s go.”

“Little too late now, don’t you think?” Miranda put a hand on her hip with a tired expression. “You’re under watch. There were two guards in the hallway eying me when I stopped at your door.”

“You have to help me.”

“I’m already helping you more than I need to.” Miranda crossed the room to the front door. “While you may think we’re great friends, on my side, we've only been acquaintances the last ten years. Nothing more. I’m merely your helpline for biotic health issues.”

“Perhaps if we switched clothes. I can put the hood up on a coat, and they might think--”

“No.” Miranda punched the button for the door. It slid open. “You shouldn’t have confessed. It was interesting to theorize dimensions, but it seems like we’ll need to postpone. A few years is nothing.”

“Nothing!” Shepard’s heart pounded. “Don’t go! I need--”

Miranda was already out the door. Two men stood across the hall in Alliance BDU's and watched Shepard with thickening frowns. One moved a hand to his belt. Shepard stepped back and let the door slide shut in front of her, leaving her alone once again.

*** 

Shepard may as well have been handcuffed when shuffled into Parliament Hall. Her guards walked a responsible but respectful distance behind her. She could Throw them with her biotics and flee, but there wouldn’t be a point. If she couldn’t leave Sol, that left her with getting the fractured Shard from the Sol relay. It was under heavy guard and on high alert to prevent traffic. She’d be a fugitive. No one was going to charter her a ship. Her combat skills were rusty, and her tech skill had always been crap. She’d never successfully fight her way through the guards and security check to reach the Shard. 

The grand hall was already spacely assembled when she entered. The defendant’s table was empty, even her lawyer wasn’t there anymore. She was at the mercy of Parliament’s decision. A guard motioned for Shepard to cross the open floor to her table. Shepard took her seat. 

The Parliamentary seats were fairly empty. Apparently, with the sentence decided and case heard, the actual handing down of the punishment was only a formality. Even the salarian and asari holograms had disappeared. They were a laughable show of inclusion anyway, but even they apparently saw the trial as finished. Cicero was in his seat with a steely expression directed at her. Shepard moved her eyes past him quickly. 

Kaidan wasn’t there. It wasn’t too much of a surprise. Perhaps it should be a relief even. She wouldn’t have to hold his eyes as they read her sentence then grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her to Block 3. It should be a comfort knowing she wouldn’t have to sit under his disappointed stare. But it hurt more knowing she had lost her last chance to see his face for the next five to ten years. She’d seen him for the last time without even realizing it.

Admiral Hackett was there. He was in the usual chair. Kaidan’s seat sat empty to his right. Hackett checked his Omni-Tool and glanced at the atomic clock on the wall. Something was off with him. He stroked his beard, crossing and recrossing his legs, and checked his Omni-Tool again. Fidgety.

“The court will now return to session.” A moderator spoke, a stern-looking woman who probably owned cats and shushed people in the library.

The low voices of admirals and court officials dropped into silence. It was almost unnervingly quiet as all the eyes turned to her. Alone at the table, she suddenly felt quite small in the expansiveness of the room. The fleet admirals who had decided to return to the hearing wore smirks and eyed her distastefully. Apparently, it was her more passionate critics in Parliament who were making use of their season tickets to watch her be sentenced. The only non-contemptuous look in the crowd was from Hackett. He glanced at the clock on the wall again and his mouth pinched. He rested his eyes on the hall’s large double doors straight ahead of him.

“Call to order,” the moderate repeated, but it was unnecessary. All the eyes in the room were already burning her alive on the defendant’s table like a pyre. “The sentencing decided by a Parliamentary subcommittee will now be delivered to the culpable party. Please, Admiral Shepard.” The moderator lifted a hand her direction like Shepard was a marionette she could make stand. Shepard did as directed, pressing her palms on the table, and stood. She turned to face the Admiral Board.

Cicero had the same cool stare he’d had since she entered the room. “Admiral Shepard, you have confessed culpability to sabotage, espionage, and colluding with the enemy. Is this correct?”

Her legs wobbled, and she discreetly put a hand on the table to steady her posture. Sabotage, espionage, and colluding with the enemy? She’d be lucky to get prison time. Those were capital crimes. The Alliance hadn’t sentenced an officer to death in years, but she’d made the history books already with far more improbable outcomes. 

“Yes.” Shepard’s voice came out a squeak, so she cleared her throat and repeated louder. “Yes.”

Kaidan hadn’t mentioned a death sentence, and he’d been in the deliberations. That was the only thing that steadied her. A majority of Parliament would need to support a sentence as dire as the death penalty. Kaidan and Hackett wouldn’t support it. Kaidan was a persuasive person. He had a righteous flame in his arguments that could make people feel noble themselves by supporting him. Perhaps Kaidan had steered sentencing away from capital sentencing in favor of prison.

“The Admiral Board has submitted their decision on the sentencing,” the moderator said. “Please come to the center of the floor, Admiral, to hear the sentence read.”

Wooden-legged, Shepard stalked to the center of the room and stood beside the moderator. The woman receded to a place against the wall, leaving Shepard facing the board alone. Cicero stood, smoothing down his uniform, and staring down on her from the dais like Zeus. A datapad lit his desk, but he didn’t seem to need it to remember the sentence.

“It is the decision of the Admiral Board that you be dishonorably discharged from the Human Systems Alliance, that your service record show no rank, and that all pay withheld be forfeited. It is also the decision of the Board--”

The double doors behind Shepard unsealed. In the quiet courtroom, silent except for Cicero’s echoing voice, the swish of the doors could have been a gong. The admirals stirred in their seats. Hacket checked his Omni-Tool and the corners of his lips twitched up. Cicero on the other hand, clenched his jaw, eyes hardening on the sliding doors. Shepard turned. 

It was Admiral -- no, Councilor -- Wilson. His bald scalp caught the light like a liver-spotted robin’s egg. His eyes were sunken in so deep, they shined out of his skull like jewels in the back of a cave. He wasn’t a tall man, but he walked like one. Shoulders back and head high, he entered the hall like he expected trumpeters to announce him. It was a good thing his eyes were on the Admiral Board, not the floor, because he may have been disappointed to not see a red carpet unfurling before his feet.

“Councilor Wilson,” Cicero acknowledged through gritted teeth. “Unfortunately, the Parliamentary court is in session.”

“I am more than aware.” 

Wilson came straight at her down the center of the grand hall with his eyes on Cicero. A figure came from behind Wilson and stood against the wall beside the door. Shepard’s heart leapt into her throat. Kaidan avoided her eyes, either by intention or truly oblivious to her gawking Shepard couldn’t tell. Wilson stopped at Shepard’s side, facing the Admiral Board. His nostrils flared, and she half expected him to paw the ground like a readying bull.

“I understand Spectre Shepard’s sentence is being delivered.” His voice boomed through the hall. “By all means, Fleet Admiral. Continue.”

“This is an internal Alliance matter, Councilor. The Galactic Council has no bearing here.” Despite the calm tone, Cicero’s eyes shifted past Shepard and Wilson. His butcher’s stare drilled into the wall behind her. She didn’t need to follow his eyes to know who was suffering the glare.

“The Galactic Council does have bearing here,” Wilson’s voice snapped back at them. He took two storming steps toward Cicero, face reddening, and waited for Cicero to meet his eyes. Wilson had a quick fuse when it came to perceived disrespect. “Look at me! Good. Now, the Council realizes Shepard is an Alliance officer, but she is also a Council Spectre. There are responsibilities and privileges you will uphold as a member race.”

“Privileges?” Cicero repeated icily. “Do those privileges include sabotage, espionage, and colluding with Alliance enemies?”

Wilson’s expression faltered for a second then hardening again. “Those are grave offenses. They will not go unaddressed. The Council will censure the Spectre itself rest assured.”

“That’s allowable after fulfilling her sentence obligated by Parliament. She will, of course, at that time be released for Council processing.”

The admirals behind Cicero bobbed their heads in agreement and looked between each other. Hackett looked around at the faces and frowned.

“That will not do, Admiral,” Wilson said. “Spectre Shepard is being dishonorably discharged from Alliance service. It’s a more than appropriate action, if I say so myself.” He shot Shepard a fiery look over his shoulder and turned back to Cicero. “However. That will be the extent of your sentence. Monetary fine is permissible, forfeiture of pay and allowances. Anything further is outside the realm of the Alliance for a non-service member who has Spectre immunity. Even with her actions being unconscionable. 

The Council will make a ruling on her actions. Your sentence of time in prison may stand. Should she be stripped of her Spectre status as a consequence following Council review, then she will lose Spectre immunity. As a private citizen and former service member convicted by military tribunal, she can then be impounded and serve out her twenty years in an Alliance prison. As it stands, she is no longer an Alliance soldier or under Alliance authority. She’s been discharged. But she is still a Spectre.”

Fleet admiral stomped to their feet in a tide of voices. Cicero talked over all of them. Twenty years! Sweat dampened Shepard’s face.

“Stop,” he said simply and lifted a hand. 

The volume died away. Ah, she should have guessed. The fleet admirals who came to savor her sentencing weren’t her staunchest critics as much as Cicero’s supporters in Parliament. There was a fair number of them, and they all stopped at Cicero’s word. 

“It is notable, Councilor, that you apparently were already aware of Admiral Shepard’s sentencing decision. It hasn’t been publicly released. I had only covered her dishonorable discharge when you arrived. You’ve obviously been given confidential information on the outcome of private deliberations in an internal matter of Parliament.” His eyes sharpened on Kaidan behind them. This time Shepard looked. Kaidan stood against the wall, arms folded, and posture casual. He held Cicero’s glare with a blank sort of intensity.

“Fleet Admirals,” Hackett stood drawing attention to himself. “The outcome of the sentence could be easily inferred based on the magnitude of the charges. Though serious, this was a simple infraction with unpredictable but expansive consequences. The krogan were not an enemy at the time, and Admiral Shepard’s intentions can’t be proven as malicious. It’s an intelligence crime. It wasn’t a command-level offense, misdirecting subordinates in direct contradiction to Alliance orders. It was an information leak, one person to one person. From that fact, it’s easy to ration that a capital penalty wouldn’t be delivered. Of course, it would be prison time then. Precedence would make twenty years a likely outcome. This is not a remarkable conclusion on the part of the Councilor.”

Wilson waved a finger at Cicero. “You cannot take a Spectre who isn’t under Alliance authority into custody and imprison her. Not while her Spectre status is upheld. She’s not an Alliance officer anymore. She didn’t break her service contract trying to resign. You discharged her yourself.”

Cicero’s mouth tightened. He drew himself up to his full height and put his hands on the banister in front of him. “I will finish. Rear Admiral Shepard is here by dishonorably discharged from the Humans System Alliance with forfeiture of all pay and allowances. She is barred from relisting. Criminal penalties will be released in a public document. Pending Council decision on her Spectre status, a prison sentence of twenty years will be served without probationary appeals in Alliance military prison.” Cicero shoved off the railing. “Adjourned.”

The hall exploded into heated words and overlapping questions. The admirals swarmed Cicero to the point, he disappeared entirely in the wild gesturing and loudly punctuated disapproval. 

Shepard walked to Wilson. “Sir . . .”

“Shut up,” Wilson snapped under his breath. 

He looked over at her. His gaze shook with a restrained inferno. It made her feel ten years younger, back to when he was her direct superior. Back then, they’d been two steamrollers playing chicken, both raging and spiteful, testing the other’s limits, both trying to be the dominant player and win. A misunderstanding had changed that. 

In her timelineline, surprisingly, his contempt had twisted into a chagrined tolerance. Over time, a grudging paternal warmth seeped from the rough surface. As human councilor herself and him, Fleet Admiral of Sol, there was the ever frequent horn-locking and exchanging of clashing rants. But his irritated hopelessness in her rebellious behavior was tinged with amusement and respect. Herself, she had come to admire his uncompromising traditionalism and his adherence to history and rules. His responses were so predictable and unfailing, she almost looked forward to the sparring matches. 

In this timeline, however, it was impossible to know where Rear Admiral Shepard and Human Councilor Wilson stood in respect to each other. Wilson’s disdain for Kaidan, after one incidence of Kaidan humiliating him, had never waned. Wilson was as scornful ten years later as he was the day it happened. Perhaps Wilson had the same inalterable scorn for her too.

“If it’s the only thing I ever do, you will be stripped of your Spectre status,” Wilson said savagely under his breath. “When the Council reconvenes, you can be damn sure what agenda item number one is. Unlike the Alliance, it won’t take us a day to deliberate. And where is . . . Already gone. Of course, he is. Alenko didn’t tell me you were being sentenced for espionage! Colluding with the enemy! Traitor charges. I would have let them crucify you if I’d known.”

Wilson grumbled and stormed away, chin high and a pounding gait to his step. Shepard turned to the back wall, but Cicero was right. Kaidan was already gone.

***

“Thanks for putting me up. Feels like old times.” Shepard tossed her bag on the stiff, white leather couch. The cushion didn’t even indent. It was meant more for the background of a vanity fair photoshoot than for cozy nights-in watching Omni-Tool vids.

“It’s been ten years since you stayed with me.” Miranda moved past Shepard. Her heels clicked on a clear glass floor. Black space speckled with starlight stretched endlessly beneath them. “You may use the room at the end of the hall. Don’t create a mess.”

“Your decorating is very . . . pristine,” Shepard decided.

The volcanic-glass walls, pearly furniture, and glass floor over space made Shepard feel like a pawn on a chessboard. There was something loud and bold about the decorating, but cold and sterile too. Beautiful, but with no sense of being lived in. The room’s cool air raised goosebumps up Shepard’s arms. 

“Usually I sleep at my office. Consider the space yours to use. For now.”

“A vase of poppies would really make this place pop,” Shepard decided. 

Miranda gave her a weary look and checked the time on her Omni-Tool. The coldness of space seeped through the floor up Shepard’s legs and into her heart. Alone. Before Miranda could say anything about leaving, Shepard spoke. 

“Thanks for this, Miranda. But you should stay here too. Don’t sleep at your office.”

“I have things to do.” Miranda rounded the snowy marble countertop into the open kitchen. 

She opened the stainless steel fridge and dipped her head inside. Unsatisfied, she closed it and pawed through glass-doored cupboards that Shepard could already see were empty. 

“No food. Unfortunate,” Miranda said. “You can use a datapad to look up take out menus. Plenty of places deliver. Groceries, if you’d prefer.”

“And cook using what? I see a corkscrew, some glasses, and one set of silverware.”

“You can purchase pots and pans. Just take them with you when you leave.” Miranda slammed the cupboard doors shut, snatched her datapad off the glass dining table, and strode to the front door.

“You’re going all ready?”

“I told you. I have things requiring my attention.”

“I get that.” Shepard trailed her to the door. “I’ve been told I get tunnel vision for my end goals. I understand it, but take a break. Just for a bit.”

“Maybe you need to get some tunnel vision back. You need to find a way to Tuchanka and a way through Sol’s relay. I’d decide on the details of your grand plan, because your ship and Alliance authority just got taken away.”

Shepard brushed the topic aside. “Tell me about your company, Cybernet.”

“A get-to-know me session?” Miranda tossed her hair and placed a palm on the button for the front door. “I don’t think so, Shepard. If I don’t have time for anything, it’s insipid small talk.”

“Okay then.” Shepard swung her arms and swept her gaze over the room. No photos, no souvenirs from trips, no artwork of any kind. Just wide black walls and empty surfaces. Shepard squared herself back to Miranda. “What about Ori? Is she still doing her art?”

Miranda’s lips thinned. “Ori’s dead.”

Shepard’s chest clenched. “What? She . . . When? Damn, Miranda, I’m so --”

“Enough. I don’t want pity and platitudes. It was a long time ago.”

The darkness below Sheprad’s feet wasn’t just cold, it was empty. Ori was dead? She had marble sculptures in the government buildings across Thessia and Sur’Kesh. Her statue of the different races representing unity during the war was the centerpiece of HQ. How many admirals and forgein diplomat had shaken hands with the mental visages staring down at them as the camera flashed? 

Ori’s busts and fountain sculptures were collector pieces. The richest Nos Astra moguls and celebrities had cutthroat auctions to own an Oriana Lawson ceramic. The new consort commemorated her palace in Vancouver by sitting for a series of oil paintings. Oriana wouldn’t confirm it, but there were rumors the collection required more than a modest amount of blue paint. All the success with her art, it was her family Ori talked about. Two kids. Her husband was a wealthy architect heading projects all across the Citadel and Earth. 

“How?’ Shepard looked up.

“Almost seven years ago. Mercenaries intercepted her ship near Arcturus. She was on her ways to an arts festival on Eden Prime. She’d just got engaged to this fancy-boy architect. They both died.”

“Seven years ago?” Shepard echoed. “The Silver Talons and Blue Sons?”

“Yes. You hunted them down after that. The one thing you’ve done for me since the war. They paid. All the time they spent hijacking ships, and they were right under our noses.”

“Langley Station.”

“No one noticed the cross-traffic in their transmissions, how the trajectories aligned. But you did. It was just too late for Ori.”

“ _ I  _ was the one who put it together?” Shepard repeated slowly. “ _ Me _ ?”

“No one noticed the patterns. I never blamed you for not seeing it sooner. It would have taken too much time to piece together. Too complicated. When the merc ship ran from the Normandy, they gave themselves away. You let them go to see the direction they took then reviewed the data. You took care of them.”

Shepard tightened her arms across her middle. “I’m sorry, Miranda.”

“Like I said, it’s not your fault.” Miranda pushed the button for the front door. “Order some food. The place is yours for now.”

“Thanks,” Shepard murmured.

The door vacuum sealed closed. Shepard stared at the stars below her. One decision affected so many. Oriana shouldn’t have died. Those mercenaries were in their graves eight years ago, not seven. Not in this timeline though. In this timeline, they had killed Ori.

*** 

Shepard sat on the cold glass floor and rested against the bed. Mist from the shower fogged the air. Her hair dripped water down the neck of her bathrobe. 

This endless starry expanse beneath her at one time would have left her choking and clawing at a helmet that wasn’t there. She could still hear the hiss of the oxygen hose as her vision spun into darkness. When she was spaced, the Normandy exploding around her and Alchera flashing in her vision, she had realized: This was it. So many times, she’d through, but now, this was truly it. The end. 

The terror had suffocated her as much as the lack of oxygen. Air froze in her throat, cold as the ice that would crust her body as she spun forever through space. She always thought there would be a peace dying in action, for her crew, for a cause. But all she could feel was her suit sucking up against her skin, oxygen alarm blaring in her ears, and the taste of her breath going stale. The oxygen was being used faster and faster. She was hyperventilating, but she couldn’t slow it. She knew she should. She wasn’t sure if passing out would be a mercy or just another loss, the last few minutes of her life taken without a memory. It had all happened so fast.

But now, sitting here with the stars spread beneath her, it felt peaceful. It was the peacefulness her death should have had. Maybe somewhere inside, she’d known it wasn’t truly the end above Alchera. Not like now. This calm as she slouched bare-legged on the glass and studied the stars, perhaps this was the end. A death without dying. No flailing, gasping, tears smearing her face, and clawing at nothingness. 

She had thought of him then as she did now. 

If something had to happen to them, this was the best way really. Was her body lying on the beach to be found in the morning? She had probably simply vanished like Ambasador Mason. That scenario would be the best. No dramatic death to haunt them. They wouldn’t wonder: Had she suffered? Kaidan wouldn’t fall to his knees by her cold body, and brushing the sand off her face, blame himself. She just vanished. No boiling guilt or anger, just confusion tinged with hope and an endless future never knowing. She had lost them, but they would go on. Someplace. 

She’d always thought it would be Avyn leaving them. Or it would be Kaidan on one of his missions for the Spectres. It was never her when she ever thought about it. She sat in meetings and shook hands instead of dodging grenades and returning gunfire. No one really dies of boredom. She was healthy. Her biotics never came at a price like they did for Kaidan or Avyn. Yes, it was better this way, if it had to be someone. 

They’d been happy, at least. The thought strangled her. Happy. She’d been so focused on what she’d lost the last ten years, she hadn’t appreciated what she gained. Kaidan had been right. Now he was as far away from her as death. The last words she’d said to him had been cruel. She could never tell him he was right.

She slunk into bed and pulled the sheets tight around her. This was worse than death. In death, she remembered nothing. But here, she was left to go through the motions, flat and hollow. She’d spend the rest of her days remembering something too far away to touch. This was almost like Hell.


	6. Strike Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning (see end notes for specifics)

CHAPTER 6: Strike Three

Shepard jolted up in bed. Her chest throbbed. She’d been on the Normandy fighting rogue mercs and then chasing a pirate gang through downtown Urusa Ital. More memories. Another dream. She forced her breathing to slow. 

The room was still dark with only the thin starlight below her bed. Shepard kicked the sheets off. She had set her computer terminal up in the corner. Her duffle back lay open at the base of the desk. Cords curled out from the zipper like intestines from a gashed abdomen. 

“Lexi.” She stood in front of the terminal.

“What may I do for you, Admiral?”

“I’m not an -- Nevermind. Just tell me the location of Councilor Wilson’s offices. Are they on Earth?” She knew enough to rule out the offices being on the Citadel. Only people with business licenses and swipe name badges lived here.

“Human Councilor Officers are located in Vancouver, Earth, Sol System.”

“But the Council is still at recess?”

“The Council is on break until September 30th to observe the Galactic Victory holiday, held in memory of those lost during the Reaper War, 2185.”

“Contact Councilor Wilson’s office anyway. Establish a comm link.”

Shepard settled herself at the desk. She smoothed down the frizz in her hair and straightened the shoulders of her robe. No one could tell it was a robe, but appearances did matter to Wilson. He might take her disheveled appearance as impertinence. She was reaching for her jacket off the back of the chair when the comm link’s beeps shallowed and died away.

“I am sorry, Admiral. Councilor Wilson’s offices are closed. If you would like to leave a message, it will be forwarded to Assistant Cicero’s mail inbox. Would you like to leave a message now?”

“Cicero?” Shepard said sharply.

“Assistant Stacey Cicero, Council Liaison.”

It was Admiral Cicero’s daughter. She vaguely remembered the woman interning at the Counselor's office during Shepard’s first years in office. The girl had gone on to work some diplomatic role in asari space. Apparently, here, she had found a niche under Councilor Wilson. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to leave a message for an assistant.

“No.” Shepard dropped her jacket on the floor and sat back in her chair. “What about a personal residence for the councilor? Do I have that information in my directory?”

“Your list of personal contacts includes an entry for Human Councilor M.B. Wilson. Omni-Tool comm link information and a home address on Vancouver, Earth, are available.”

Shepard tapped her nails on the glass desktop and finally stood. “Good. Forward that information to my--”

The apartment door buzzed. Shepard wrapped her robe tighter and rushed down the hall, across the living room, and opened the door. It wasn’t Miranda.

“Jacob!” Shepard knotted her robe but smiled. “Hey.”

Jacob’s eyes widened on her, and he shuffled back a step. “What are you -- Where’s Miranda?”

“Her office I assume.” Shepard leaned a shoulder against the doorway. “How’s it going? You’re working for Miranda now?”

Jacob folded his arms. His biceps bulged. He ran his eyes over her with a grim, cold assessment. “Heard you got dropped by the Alliance. Didn’t think you’d end up here.”

“You mean homeless? Living off a friend?”

“Friend? Sure. You gave her some technology. You really think she’s putting you up ‘cause she feels bad for you? Miranda doesn’t feel bad for anybody.”

Shepard shifted against the doorframe. Jacob looked the same as the last time she’d seen him in Brazil. His physique was brawnier and eyes colder, but he hadn’t changed significantly.

“How’s John?” Shepard tried instead.

“You mean my kid? He’s fine. Remembered his name this time. I like that. What about your baby? What are you going to do without the Normandy?”

Shepard shrugged. “Who knows? Become councilor.”

“No offense, Shepard. You’d make a terrible councilor.” Jacob glanced down the hall. “I’ve got to go. Need to find Miranda. Good luck with stuff, Shepard. You’re going to need it.”

He disappeared down the apartment hallway. Shepard turned slowly back to the apartment. No one cared about her. No one she cared about cared whether she lived or died. How could everything change so much? She hadn’t felt this alone since the foster homes and that first decade of adulthood moving through the ranks of the Alliance. She had a lot of friends from every assignment, every new port, but no one who knew her. No one who truly cared. She was back to that. This time she didn’t have the camouflage swarm of shallow friends or the self-denial of knowing nothing else.

“Lexi,” Shepard moved back into the bedroom, “book me a shuttle for Vancouver.”

To hell with all these people who didn’t matter anyway. She’d always taken care of herself before. She hadn’t needed anyone then. Before she was a soft-hearted, chair-sitting councilor, she was a badass with a gun and ship. She didn’t have the ship, but it didn’t mean she could be who she was before. She had liked that person.

“Available shuttle times are listed on the screen. Please make a selection, Admiral.”

Shepard stroked a hand down her robe and checked the current time. Morning in Vancouver. She didn’t know _Councilor_ Wilson, but she knew Fleet Admiral Wilson. Chances were good 0900 meant the same thing to the Councilor as it did the Fleet Admiral. She slipped off her robe. She’d need running clothes.

***

Shepard jogged across the tower’s lawn and took a sharp right turn onto the concrete. She took the stairs two at a time. The sapphire-glass high rise in front of her reflected the morning sun into eyes. Her jog slowed on the last stair. She stopped.

“Councilor! Imagine this. Right on my favorite running trail.”

Wilson stood just outside the tower’s grand doorway. He glared at her approach. His knuckles whitening on the handle of his tennis racquet. Shepard pulled her ponytail apart and regathered it as she continued toward him.

“I forgot you had the penthouse here.”

“Cut the bull, Shepard.” Wilson adjusted his sweater vest and crossed the racquet under his arm. 

It took effort to suppress the smug tickle at the corners of her lips. The knitted v-neck vest, oversized sunglasses, the bleach-white shorts with ironed seams: he was definitely on holiday. His ruddy complexion even had a pasty wash to it, especially the nose and bare scalp. Sunscreen. Ever the cautious one. 

She was used to seeing him in uniform: pressed dress blues washed with too much starch, every medal aligned on his breast as with a ruler, and the buttons on his sleeves sparkling with polish. The last time she’d seen him was a Fallen Soldier fundraiser in the HQ ballroom in Vancouver. His sunken eyes had actually bulged seeing her. Plumb satin gown, hair piled on top of her head, she was every inch not the soldier. Then his eyes had slid to Kaidan at her side and narrowed into daggers. They’d chatted pleasantly, sipping champagne, with Wilson angling his back to Kaidan. Kaidan had smirked, pulling at the sleeves of his tuxedo, and scanned his eyes around the room to find someone else for conversation. Two glasses of champagne downed, and she was talking about Avyn’s latest surgery and Miranda’s optimism for it being her last. Wilson had nodded gravely, even patted her arm. He mentioned his niece who died young and how he was looking into new treatment options for --

“How’s Mary?” Shepard asked.

Wilson lifted his chin. “Mary who?”

Dammit. This couldn’t be another difference between the timelines. The timeline only diverged ten years. Wilson had to just be testing her.

“Your sister,” Shepard said casually.

Wilson turned the racquet in his fingers and frowned at her. “I have a sister named Mary, yes. How do you know that? Don’t think for a moment, I believe you were just jogging past. This is not a jogging trail. It’s urban pedestrian traffic through here.”

“I was urban pedestrian jogging like I do every day. Right through here.” Shepard grinned, but Wilson’s frown only set in deeper. “Sir, please. I know you’re on holiday. I need to talk to you.”

“Leave a message with my assistant.” Wilson pushed her aside with his racquet and trotted down the building’s steps. She jogged to keep up, and he eyed her sideways. “What do you want, Shepard? I doubt it’s to talk about my sister.”

“Might not be my original purpose.” Shepard rounded a skycar terminal keeping pace with him. A grass park with manicured conifers spread out in front of them. Probably one of the tower’s selling points in addition to its opulence: close to a well-groomed park with well-groomed people.

“Are you going to keep following me? Just spit it out. Whatever it is. I suppose it’s to plead your case. Tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t fire you from the Spectres.”

“Actually not. It’s something else.” Shepard pointed at his racquet. “Who’re you playing? I’m pretty good.”

Wilson rolled his eyes and sighed. “Of course, you are. You want my support. If I came out with a bridle and saddle, you’d say jockey was your second career. I had a cricket bat, you’d tell me you lettered in school.”

Shepard chuckled. “Only one way to find out. Look. I’ve come all costumed up for a game. I’ve got the runner shoes and shorts. Forgot my sweater vest, but I’m nearly there.”

“Costume, no doubt. Were you really running?”

“Ran around the block a few times. Knew you wouldn’t buy the coincidence without some real sweat.”

“Or even with the sweat.”

They followed a graveled through the canopy’s dappled shadows. On one side, middle-aged women stretched in slow motion exercise on mats. On the other side, a man was painting a fountain on canvas. A couple ahead of them were walking a poodle with a better haircut than her. The pong of racquets on tennis balls echoed from somewhere up ahead. 

“Are you meeting someone or just playing a machine?”

Wilson didn’t answer. The breeze swirled cut grass behind the groundkeeper’s lawn mowers, and the air smelled like rain. Around the next turn spread the metal fences of tennis courts.

“All right,” Shepard said, finally stopping. Tennis balls rebounded off the metal cages ahead of them. “I’ll get straight to it. Get it out of the way. I want a starship and clearance through the Sol relay.”

The racquet slipped from Wilson’s fingers. He fumbled in the grass for his racquet, face reddening, mouth opening. She could see the hot kettle expression and jumped in before he spoke.

“Here’s the deal. I’m the best hope for restoring the Sol relay. Sol’s Mass Relay Shard is fractured. I know where to get a replacement. It’s risky, but no one but me has ever successfully removed a Shard without breaking it.”

“You’re the one who cracked it!” Wilson jabbed the racquet at her chest.

“True. I _was_ asked to help though.”

“And to think! You’re the one who caused his whole fiasco. If the krogan hadn’t been invading Arcturus and threatening Sol, we wouldn’t have asked you. You’re undependable.”

“Look. We can spend all day pointing fingers-- or tennis racquets.” She shoved his racquet back and put her hands on her hips. “You know how it will go. I say, I wouldn’t have given the krogan information, if not for you re-engineering the genophage. Then you’d say: ‘Re-engineered the genophage? Ha! Only because you made the unilateral decision to cure it.’ I’d say, maybe I wouldn’t have had to make a unilateral decision, if everyone had listened to me three years earlier and made a plan. Then you’d say . . . See. On and on. Let’s pretend we did that part.”

Wilson’s eyes were such narrow slits, he could have been having a narcoleptic episode. But he held the racquet too rigidly in his fist to be asleep.

“Now listen to my proposal again,” Shepard said. “Pretend we already had our fight. Give me a starship and permission through the relay. I’ll come back with a new Shard and install it. Win, win.”

“I have yet to see what you’re getting out of it. You don’t do anything that isn’t helping yourself.”

“I get to fix some of the mess I created. Sometimes I actually do like just to help.”

She smiled through the lie. Getting home was more important than installing a new Shard. This timeline wasn’t real.

Wilson tapped the racquet in his palm then shook his head. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Even if I wanted to allow it, the Alliance controls the Sol relay, not the Council. It needs Parliament’s approval. You need a fleet admiral sponsoring it.”

“A fleet admiral? You were Alliance once. Parliament will listen to you. You can sponsor me.”

“I’m a Councilor now. The discussion is over.” Wilson glanced at the chain link fence. “I’m sorry. I’ve already helped you as much as I can. Ships and clearance access through the relay, approval for a mission, that’s the Alliance’s domain.”

“Fine.” 

The Councilors were so inert here. In her own timeline, she’d pressured the Alliance for favor on numerous occasions. Sometimes she overstepped boundaries just to see if anyone would push her back onto her own lawn. Wilson wasn’t one to cross lines and break rules. 

“Do you and the other councilors ever meet? Have sessions.”

“Over group comm, yes.”

“What about a Councilor’s building? If not the Citadel, somewhere else? You’re letting the Alliance dominate you by not standing together as a unified force. You need the legitimacy of being centralized.”

“We’re done here, Shepard. Get help from a Parliamentary admiral. That’s my final word on the matter.”

“All right.” Shepard drummed her fingers on her hips then nodded toward the fence. “Now how many sets were you thinking? You haven’t looked at the time once. You’re not meeting anyone.”

“Play you? You don’t have a racquet.”

“I bet someone will loan me one. A lot of people on the sidelines. I make friends fast. If not, I’ll rent one.”

Wilson gave a tired sigh and walked to the courts. Shepard fell in beside him.

“So, how is your sister?”

“Again? Back to Mary? How do you even --”

“I had someone I cared about, too, who had a brain tumor. Not the same cause, of course. A biotic-related tumor. You told me once about your sister. You might not remember it.”

“She’s fine.”

“My daught-- This child I knew. One of her tumors was in the same location. Lost feeling in her fingertips and down the side of her body.”

“This was a child? Mary lost feeling on her legs, up the knee. Years ago, it was bad. She lived with me. She and her daughter. Bianca.” His face went dark. “It’s a genetic condition. Bianca’s was worse than her mothers. Passed away, but Mary’s doing all right.”

“There’s a doctor in Baltimore. He specializes in rehabilitation after surgery injuring the parietal lobe. His spectrum treatments using laseroptics through the eye helped the person I knew, the child. He could maybe help Mary.” This was the conversation they’d had last time she saw him. Dr. Rinwald had helped Mary. She’d gotten an email from Wilson a week into her Tuchanka tour.

“Baltimore?” Wilson stopped next to the chain link door of an empty court.

“Charles Rinwald. Tabitha Medical Center, works out of the Maryland University’s School of Medicine. Pioneered laseroptics.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.” Wilson eyed Shepard a moment then shoved the door open to the tennis court. “Find a racquet. I’ll be warming up.”

Shepard smiled. She eyed a crowd of tennis players across the lawn, not so subtly angling their selfies her direction. She’d find a racquet, no problem. Her real problem was finding someone in Parliament who would support her trip through the relay, but for now, she’d worry about beating the sweater vest off Wilson in a good match up. She crossed the lawn toward the picture-takers.

*** 

The main entrance hall to HQ’s leadership wing was a bright area, vaulted glass, and rows of flags on the walls. It was a public area, fortunately. Shepard paced the marble with her eyes on the entrance to the admiralty offices. Strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead, and she retwisted her ponytail. Her tank top still had sweat marks from the tennis court. She was missing her barrack quarters and its shower. Miranda’s pad on the Citadel was too far of a detour to still be in the entrance hall at the right time. 

The shadows were lengthening across the floor from trees in the raised planters outside. Vancouver glimmered in the distance with skycar traffic starting to pick up. Outside, officers rushed down the grand staircase on their way to the nearest taxi platform. Shepard checked the clock over the door. Five o’clock. The fleet admirals would be closing their offices and heading home soon. 

The guards noticed her watching the entrance to the leadership area. They followed her with their eyes like hypnotized pendulums. She wasn’t casing the joint. She just needed her preferred fleet admiral to make an appearance, the only one she had a chance in recruiting. So far, he was nowhere in sight.

“Ah, Shepard.” A voice said behind her. Deep, cool, and melodic. She knew who it was before she smelled the sandalwood.

A chill prickled her skin. “Fleet Admiral Cicero.”

He was the same height as her, which meant she stared him straight in the eye. Or rather, he stared her straight in the eye. All her years as Councilor, she’d perfected projecting a formidable presence. But standing here now, she felt like the one facing something formidable. She was an Alliance washout without a single friend. He was the fleet admiral of Sol. She didn’t let his icy scrutiny earn him more than a transparently flimsy smile.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked.

“For you?” Shepard wasn’t sure what to say. Their relationship was obviously familiar. She had woken in his bed. But she had also crossed him somehow by confessing and not letting Tautum take the fall for the Contender. “I’m waiting for someone else actually. Hackett.”

“Hackett?” Cicero said dryly. “I see. Did you get your datachip back?”

Ah, the OSD card she found in her room along with her sock and Omni-Tool. It had been ground into bits of twisted metal and plastic pulp. What it contained was a mystery.

“I did actually. Looked like someone accidentally stepped on it.” 

“As ‘accidentally’ as you copied my data.”

Footsteps clapped on the flooring behind them. A woman in uniform with crowfoot eyes and white hair stopped next to Cicero.

“Admiral Cicero, good afternoon.” She saluted him, but her thin-lipped smile wasn’t warm.

“Rear Admiral Hardcastle.” Cicero returned the salute.

“I’ve reconsidered my stance on the _Dallas_ and the _Odyssey._ I agree, they should be decommissioned.”

“Delighted to hear it.”

Hardcastle shifted on her feet as if waiting for something more. She gave Shepard a hesitant glance then cleared her throat. “And Private Hardcastle?”

“I think the first wave will be adequately manned. Private Hardcastle’s unit can better serve the Sol System by remaining at their current assignment.”

Hardcastle’s posture relaxed. “My son and his wife will be happy to hear that. The private’s wife and children as well.”

Cicero inclined his head in a gracious manner. Hardcastle walked away at a brisk pace already bringing up a comm on her Omni-Tool.

Shepard stepped into Cicero’s line of sight. “You threatened to send her grandson to the front lines so she’d decommission two ships?”

“Granddaughter actually. You and I were both privates once. We paid our time on the front lines.”

“Yeah, and everyone around me died.”

“It’s nothing outside what she signed up for or which I haven’t done myself.”

“Why do you want those ships decommissioned? Are you making money off them being sold for scraps or something?”

“They’re stripped and repurposed. Sold. The Alliance’s financial records for the decommissioned ships are accessible to you as a Spectre. If you fear embezzlement, then by all means, double check the numbers.” 

Voices drew her attention to the other side of the room. The first herd of fleet admirals were leaving for the day. Admiral Hackett trailed in the back of the crowd, buttoning his trench coat, and exchanging goodbyes with Admiral Sheng. Hackett noticed her and slowed his pace toward the door, but he didn’t smile back. 

Cicero grabbed her arm, a light touch, and whispered in her ear. “I’d rethink who’s side you’re on, Shepard. You know too much to be a loose thread. ”

He released her arm and cut down the windowed hallway deeper into the building. It didn’t matter. Whatever treacherous relationship she had with Cicero was irrelevant. She crossed the floor to Hackett.

Hackett frowned darkly at Cicero’s retreating form. “Something unprofessional happening?”

“I don’t work here anymore. Would it matter? Did you get my message?” she asked.

“I did.” He waited for the herd of admirals to pass through the doors, then turned his attention back to her. “I’m sorry, Spectre. I can’t help you.”

“Can’t help? Yes, you can. Sponsor my request before Parliament. Help me persuade them.”

Hackett belted his coat. “The Alliance is negotiating a solution with the Council. If we get permission, a replacement Shard will be salvaged from a low-traffic relay in a low population system. It’s only a matter of time before we reach an agreeable solution. It’s far less dangerous than entering krogan space covertly and provoking an all out war.”

“You’re at war already.”

“The krogan claim it was a rebellious faction, not their government -- if you can call it government -- who attacked Arcturus. While their leadership is in flux and the declaration is unofficial, we have time to prepare. We need all the time we can get. There’s a fleet stranded on the other side of the relay. Forces split, and without power to defend the colonies, it will be poor timing to have the krogans start offensive warfare.”

“The Council’s on holiday. Even if they weren’t, it will take weeks bartering with them. And who will remove the shard for you? I’m the only one who’s done it.”

“That can all be figured out.”

“No, it won’t. You know it.” Shepard stood directly in front of him and looked him in the eye. “I’ve done it before. The beacon on Elliom gave me the knowledge no one else has. You’re going to destroy a working relay’s Shard and spend months -- years -- trying to figure this out on your own. To fix this problem, you need me. Maybe not my plan, but you need me.”

Hackett sighed. “Parliament will never support you, and they won’t back me if they know you’re involved.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You can campaign through all the fleet admirals, but I’m afraid you’ll never get enough on your side for what you’re wanting to do. If Admiral Cicero is against you, there’s no use trying.”

“Ah. So, he’s my trial foreman and Parliament’s popular kid, huh?”

“He’s fleet admiral for the Sol System and everything that comes with it. Unless Alenko’s bid to take Sol changes that, Cicero will stay on top. Based on what I saw between you and Cicero just now, you won’t have Cicero’s support.” Hackett consulted his Omni-Tool. “I’m sorry, Shepard. This is not how I wanted things to turn out for you. You had a promising career. Sit tight. The situation becomes gridlocked like you believe, perhaps you’ll be invited to the huddle. Until then, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

He circled around her and disappeared out the front door. Shepard dropped down on a bench against the wall. She wasn’t going to wait months for the Alliance to realize they needed her. Time was ticking away. Whatever it took, she had to get home. She turned her eyes to the hallway where Cicero had disappeared. Whatever it took.

***

“You’re really going to do this?” Miranda leaned against the bathroom’s door frame. Below their feet spread the darkness of space and the apartment’s glass floor.

Shepard brushed away a red smudge at the corner of her lips and capped the lipstick. “I don’t know what else to do, Miranda. It’s fine. Means nothing.”

Shepard checked her silhouette in the full-length mirror. Ink-think fabric painted her curves. Miranda’s black sheath dress was tighter than anything Shepard normally wore.

“This Cicero knows you’re coming?” Miranda asked.

“Yes.” Shepard pulled her hair up experimentally. It didn’t look right, and she let the dyed mess fall back to her jaw. She turned to Miranda with finality. “Well. Do I look ready?”

“No. You need gartered fishnets and thigh-high plastic boots.”

“Miranda, please.” Shepard slipped around her into the living room. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I feel like a madam, Shepard. Your admiral better nicely unzip that dress. It cost twelve thousand credits.”

Shepard’s face heated. “It won’t get that far.”

“Yes, it will. What else are you planning? You’ve already been sleeping with him. He’ll expect it, especially when you come wearing that.”

Shepard smoothed the dress down her abdomen with both hands and swallowed. Her heart beat wildly under her ribs. “Hell, Miranda, what am I doing?”

Miranda tapped her French tips on the wall then shrugged. “You’ve already slept with him. What’s one more time? I’ve seen him on the news. Seems fit, if old. Might be nice. You could end up enjoying yourself.”

“Nice?” Shepard’s voice cracked. “Nice, Miranda? Are you serious?” 

“I’m trying to be supportive.” Miranda fluffed Shepard’s hair then tugged down the dress’s strapless neckline. “Very fitted. You look fabulous. Just the slightest tilt forward -- grab a drink or turn off a lamp -- and he’s going to be all eyes.” She backed up with a satisfied nod. “Yes, all eyes, and then all hands.”

Shepard pressed her knuckles hard to her lips.

“Stop doing that. You’ll smear it.” Miranda yanked her hand down. “You’re the one who insisted on red lipstick. As if you needed to advertise like a flashing red light. You want to get this over faster, don’t wear a dress that needs nicely unzipped. Wear a trench coat. One step inside, door slides shut, drop it. Five, ten minutes. All the worrying is over. A few drinks, he’ll be drowsy, you’ll get your promises. You’ll be done. Like that.” Miranda snapped her fingers then gave Shepard a critical once over. “You should probably have a drink yourself. You want something before you go? I have that--”

“You know, I’m married in my other life. Maybe the Shepard here slept with Cicero, but I haven’t. I’ve only slept with one person for ten years -- more than ten years -- fifteen years. In fact, I haven’t slept with anyone else since meeting him.”

“Then this will be nice.” Miranda patted her arm. “Guilt-free even. He’s not here. This is a different reality. Supposedly. You’re just trying to get back to the person you’ve slept with for fifteen years. You might even pick up some new moves. See how the kids are doing it nowadays.” Miranda lifted a bottle of red liquor off the wet bar in the corner of the room.

“He’s over ninety.”

“Barely over middle aged. A hundred and fifty will probably be surpassed by his generation. Our generation, even longer than that. And, he probably hasn’t slept with the same person for fifteen years.” Miranda paused pouring a tumbler of scarlet liquor. “Hmm.”

“What?”

Miranda handed Shepard the glass. “Do you think he’ll notice? You, I mean. The domestic housewife who’s been fumbling under the quilts with the same man every night for fifteen years. That’s not the Shepard he’ll be expecting . . . Here, you’re adventurous, provocative, experienced. Very experienced. I’ve been impressed by some of the things I’ve heard. I’m not sure it’s all true, but if even half . . .”

“Miranda.”

“Drink that whole thing,” Miranda encouraged. “Like I said, tilt yourself forward right in front of him, a little overflowing squish between the arms, and five-ten minutes. Over. Close your eyes, you won’t even know the difference.”

“I’ll know the difference,” Shepard said sourly and stared into her glass. Bile rose up her throat. She set the tumbler on the counter untouched and moved to the door.

Miranda followed. “Make sure you get a promise for what you need before . . . You know.”

The door closed at Shepard’s back. She countered her steps to the Citadel’s nearest dock platform and rented a shuttle to Earth.

***

This was the apartment building where she woke to find herself in this nightmare. She had come full circle. Shepard rode the elevator listening to violin music and staring at herself in the polished platinum wall. 

She reached the floor. The hallway's glass overlooked city skyscrapers and late night traffic. A skycar passed below, far enough she had to squint to make out the ad painted on its side. It was an Alliance recruitment ad. An Alliance insignia had been sloppily painted over a face. The shape of the shoulders remained and a bit of dark hair still peeked out. Familiar details. Either the Alliance or the taxi service had tried to remove the original picture. It reminded her of the broken hologram Alliance advertisement in the hallway at HQ. LIAR had been spray painted under it. She turned away. 

The black ocean stretched directly below in the other direction. She could taste the brine in the air being so close to the tide. 

She hesitated at his door. He knew she was coming. She’d sent a message and forumulated her plan, but now, actually standing here, her nerves began to vibrate. If she was still Councilor, married to Kaidan, and mother of an eight year old girl, something like this would cause quite the scandal in her timeline. She was none of those things here, but that was only the external. She may not wear a ring or have a copy of signed papers, but she was still married. He was still alive, just unreachable. Unreachable unless she found a way home. She had to get home. She pushed the door chime.

Cicero answered the door. He wore a crisp white shirt partly unbuttoned at the collar and a tired expression. He held a glass of amber-colored liquid in one hand and absently swirled it around the bottom of the crystal. “Be brief, please. I’ve had a long day.”

“I wanted to chat.” Shepard’s fingers strayed toward her neckline. It felt like she was spilling out, but she stifled the urge to adjust it. “May I come in?”

“You want to chat? I very much doubt it. What do you really want?”

“I have a proposition.”

Cicero’s eyes flickered to her chest. “I’m not interested in being propositioned.”

“A short chat.” Shepard put a hand on the doorway. 

He looked her up and down, but in an unimpressed, tired way. “I suppose you did get dressed up for this propositioning. I’ll give you a few minutes, but chat with celerity.” He left the doorway, ice clinking in his glass, and crossed the room to the wet bar.

It was the living room she remembered: the abstract art on the walls and designer leather furniture. The glass wall was retracted to open the room to the balcony and allow ocean air to roll in. Waves and traffic were distant below the low melody of a piano.

“Beethoven?” Shepard stood in the middle of the room, uncertain whether to sit or stand. Perhaps she should join him at the bar.

“Chopin. Nocturne in B flat minor.”

“That was my second guess.” She delicately perched on the couch fighting the mummified-restrictions of the dress. She ended up at a side-saddled angle that hopefully looked graceful not awkward. 

An actual printed book lay open on the coffee table: Ancient Prothean Civilization. It was an obscure author. Dull reading. There was a whole collection of printed books on the bookshelf against the wall: The Prothean Empire, Ancient Technologies, The Last Conquest: Tale of Prothean Power. All of them sleep aides. 

Cicero offered her a glass of colorless liquid iced with a lime wedge on the rim. Her lungs filled with the juniper and citrus. A gin and tonic. Her favorite drink for a summer night by the ocean. She took it, but wasn’t about to muddy her thoughts by actually drinking it. 

“Wouldn’t let me through the door and now I have a cold drink in my hand. Your hospitality is dynamic.”

“You are the authority on bipolar hospitality.” He sat in a wing chair across from her and held his brandy on the armrest. “What is it you want?”

“I need help with something.”

“You need help? I’m not a psychiatrist, you realize. After your behavior, you probably need the best.” He crossed his legs and rested back in the chair. “It goes without saying, you and I aren’t on good terms.”

She still couldn’t define their relationship. He had wanted her to let Tautum take the fall. He had positioned himself as foreman of her trial, and they had slept together. Perhaps he truly did care about her and had wanted to see her get off lightly.

“We had everything arranged with Tautum. Yet, you confessed,” he said icily. “You’ve been ignoring me when I try to speak with you.”

“Confessing was the high road,” she said. She needed to move the evening along and get what she needed. “Everything worked out, didn’t it? The trial is behind us. Now we need to worry about repairing the Sol relay and reuniting the fleets.”

“You brought the Councilor into an Alliance matter to get ‘everything worked out.’” Cicero sat forward, fingers whitening on his glass. “You made the Alliance look foolish. Made me look foolish.”

“I was being sentenced.”

“Because you confessed.” He slapped his glass on the coffee table between them and stood. His voice was still chillingly level. “You conspired with Alenko and Hackett. That’s why you’re suddenly taking the ‘high road’? You want to play damsel to Alenko instead?”

“I was being sentenced to prison,” Shepard said numbly and slapped her own glass on the table.

“You deserved prison with that idiocy. Confessing when you knew it would tie my hands to help you. I won’t help you again.”

This was spiraling. Hackett said Cicero controlled Parliament. She needed his support.

“I’m sorry,” she moderated her tone. “I panicked over Tautum telling me he planned to confess. I felt guilty. You know he didn’t do it, right?”

“Tautum’s a whelp. He’s nothing. He goes to prison, you don’t, it’s a fair trade. You shouldn’t have asked for my help if you didn’t want it.” He gripped the back of his chair and studied her. “Do you actually love that little yes-man?”

“No, I don’t love him.” Shepard stood so they could look each other level in the eye.

“He looks a lot like Alenko.” Cicero studied her. “Does that get you off? Imagining it’s Alenko moving inside you instead of that timid, little sap?”

Shepard’s fists curled against her thighs, but she forced her smile to stay in place. 

“You do, don’t you?” Cicero snorted and came around the coffee table. “Do you think Alenko knows?”

“There’s nothing to know. Now, let’s talk--”

“Is that why Alenko brought Wilson to save you? I thought he was just flexing and showing off for the Board, preening for my position, testing the fences again.”

“Kaidan Alenko hates me.”

“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to spread you. I hate you, and I’ve spread you. Hate something too much. Want something too much. You hate wanting and want to hate more to stop the wanting. It consumes you.”

The hair stood up on the back on Shepard’s neck. She took a step back.

“Why the lipstick and dress? Were you hoping to seduce me? I suppose I have been drinking. That is your way, isn’t it?” He stepped after her. “What did you come here for?”

“To make a deal.” The back of her legs hit the couch. She said it quickly. “I want to travel through the relay, but I need permission from Parliament. I’ll bring back a new Mass Effect Shard to repair the Sol relay.”

He stopped. One more step, they’d be touching. “You’re asking for a ship?”

“I can’t captain the Normandy now I’m discharged. So, yes, I need a ride. And permission for that ship to pass through the relay.”

He studied her. “A new Shard?”

“I can get one. I promise.”

Shepard kept her expression determined and firm. She’d sat through enough Council meetings to project the right look. After a second of scrutiny, he backed away. He lifted his drink off the table and held it at his elbow.

“This -- if I let you do it -- would be a joint venture? You and I?”

“Uh, yes.” Shepard smoothed her dress over her hips. For some reason her blood was rushing. She waited as the wheels turned in his head.

“You won’t break the Shard, like your last attempt?”

“Absolutely. I’m one hundred percent sure I can extract it without issue. No question.” Maybe she was going too far. An edge glinted back at her in his eyes. She continued. “I know what I did wrong now. I’m the only one who can retrieve a new Shard for the relay without breaking it.”

“This isn’t a terrible idea. Restoring the Sol relay would cement my role. They won’t rotate me out of the Sol System after saving it.” Cicero wandered to the open wall facing the balcony. The breeze moving his silver hair as he gazed out into the darkness and sipped his drink. “This works, Alenko won’t leave the Terminus System, and everyone can finally see him for who he is. There’s no Shadow Broker whispering in his ear now, giving him all his great victories for the Parliamentary accolades. The only reason he’s trying to unseat me from Sol is to prevent his true inertness from being exposed. He knows the Terminus System will collapse in around him like a burned out star, which is exactly what he is. He’s scared. Finding this Shard and restoring the relay would finally set the matter to rest about the future of Sol. Keep the power balance as it should be.”

Shepard wandered uncertainly toward the balcony. “You think Admiral Alenko’s been fooling Parliament?”

“It’s public now. The Shadow Broker, all this time. That alien whore--”

“What makes her a whore?” Shepard said sharply.

“Asari. They all are.”

“Councilor Tevos might be upset to hear a fleet admiral say that.”

“The Council has no power here.” Cicero stepped out into the night. The balcony extended over the ocean. Cicero leaned over the railing waiting until Shepard came up beside him. “All this time, I thought Alenko had some twisted fetish for asari azure. He even married her. A human tradition. It’s supposed to mean something, unlike asari’s pair bonding or whatever it is. Our translators call it marriage. No promise or ceremony, nothing meaningful, no real commitment. Just a weak understanding of togetherness for the moment and new pet names. But, Alenko has to force something valued by humanity onto his perversions. Mask it to make it acceptable. As if a ceremony makes it real. All it does is defile humanity and its customs. He’s a representative of the Humans System Alliance. A fleet admiral. Member of Parliament. Too high and too known to set that sort of an precedence.”

“Enough!” Shepard slammed her palm on the railing.

Cicero gave her an amused look. “I know you love aliens. Nothing wrong with friendships. You don’t sleep with them. You don’t let them dilute humanity, mix and erase our culture. As public as he is, Alenko should be an example of humanity at its best. Not flagrantly defile our heritage. Turning himself into one of them. What does that say to the rest of humanity? To the galaxy?”

Shepard spun away. She tripped on the landing in her heels but caught herself on the doorway.

“Leaving?” Cicero asked calmly.

“Liara was my friend!”

“You hated her.” Cicero narrowed his eyes suddenly, the drink forgotten in his hand, and he came slowly closer. “What’s wrong with you? You told me yourself she was deceitful, underhanded, viperish. And Alenko? Come, come. He pretends to be this golden boy, all ethics and heroics, but all these years he’s knowingly using secrets bought with spilled blood and dirty credits. He cleaned up slave gangs, organized crime, the underworld of the Terminus System with information bought from his own crimes. 

“Then he passed his feats off as his own brilliance and boldness. Gang activity simmering and about to boil over somewhere: he puts it down. Threats to colonies or Alliance ships: he just knew to be there. Big red sand deal happening somewhere, pirate hideouts, slaver’s auction. Always saving the day. Always arriving in the nick of time to save the day, get praise from the people, earn his commendation, stoke his fame. Parliament was so dazzled. General, then admiral, then fleet admiral and member of Parliament. Orian Station wasn’t enough for him, then he took a star system, a quadrant, the whole sector is under him. All the billboards, the ANN specials, the Alliance promotional tours -- everything with him on it. Perfect cheekbones, overstyled hair, white teeth. Attractive, youngest fleet admiral ever promoted, a moral paragon, a hero from myth. Perfect and so very heroic.”

Shepard felt sick. A hole burned in the pit of her stomach. The skycar with the painted over face and the promotional Alliance hologram in HQ -- they _had_ been Kaidan. She’d known it on some level. Now it made sense.

“And all this time,” Cicero came closer, “all this time, he’s been using information from the Shadow Broker. Information bought with murder, lies, espionage, crime, everything he said he hated and stood against. He knew what the information cost. He sold himself. He made himself an icon of humanity while lying between the legs of an asari and suckling information from her gangrene teat. All to rise to the top and flash his golden visage of valor. He’s the worst kind of fake. He’s a hypocrite.”

Waves crashed in the distance, but all Shepard could hear was blood beating in her ears. She stood frozen in place, mind reeling, and the front door light years away. Kaidan wasn’t a liar. Even in this timeline, it was impossible. 

“But now,” Cicero stopped a step in front of her. “Now, if his scandal wasn’t enough to humble him, he wants my place in Sol. He suggests to Parliament, when Admiral Johnson retires, that I take Fleet Six. He takes Sol. He doesn’t want the Terminus System now that he can’t hold the reins with Shadow Broker intel. He’s afraid the Alliance, the galaxy, the public he dazzled so thoroughly will see the truth. He’s impotent without his blood-soaked intel. 

“Things are turning against him, unraveling, in the Terminus System. The Federacy is creating unrest and destabilizing the system now they see he’s a fake, a weakingly. They will try to take Orian one day if the conditions align, and I want Alenko to be there when they do. Everyone can finally see once and for all he’s nothing. But for now, he wants something easier, to get out before it’s too late and he’s exposed. So he puts his eyes on Sol. He’s entitled and self-righteous. He thinks he deserves the best, but I earned Sol. I did it with actual hard work, and the work was my own. I didn’t debase humanity and the Alliance to climb my way up.”

“Kaid--Admiral Alenko. He isn’t like that. You’re wrong.” Her voice shook.

“You’ve complained yourself about his so-called, self-declared integrity. His hypocrisy. His double standard. He’s gone after you, attacked you with public criticism, leveled actual legal charges against you. You told me he said the galaxy was better off with you dead. What changed, Shepard? Why support him now? Why did you copy my data to that datachip?”

“I--I don’t know!” This was too much.

Cicero’s fingers slid over her bare shoulder. It shocked her. He was so close. All the words being said, the emotions building, and he’d gotten so close. His breath tasted like cognac and warmed her face. In the mirror on the wall, she could see herself: lips smeared red, black dress barely holding her in, and Cicero’s fingers trailing down her arm. The light brush of his fingertips felt rhythmic and soothing, but her heart was pounding. 

“I’ll talk to Parliament. I’ll discuss it with my supporters before time. They’ll move the majority into supporting the plan.”

“Good,” Shepard said absently. “Then I can have a ship?”

He gripped her waist with his other hand and set his mouth against her ear. “Yes. I’ll make sure.”

“I can leave immediately through the relay. I’ll be in-- in complete . . .” Her breath caught with the slow, unhitching pull of the zipper down her back. “I’ll be in complete control?”

“Your own ship. You may captain it even. Just bring back the Shard.” 

His lips trailed across her cheekbone to her mouth. Breathing faster, she closed her eyes to block out the reflection in the mirror. His mouth was rough. It took her by surprise. The kiss was desperate and deep, full of teeth and force. She tried to kiss back -- it was the thing to do -- but she was swallowed in the heat and power. Her back hit the wall. His palm was on her bare back. His other hand peeled away her dress. She was dizzy, unable to catch her breath, and trying to kiss back, only she felt suffocated.

She had nearly drowned in the ocean once. She and Kaidan were newly married and visiting his property on the coast. She was never taught to swim and didn’t care. She’d always been fine staying close to shore. She charged into the waves unconcerned and taunted him with laughter and splashing. Then a wave caught her. She was swallowed. She was weightless as salt water spilled down her lungs, and her hands grasped at bubbles and sand. The wave sucked her down and pulled her out to sea. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t kick free, didn’t know up from down. Then Kaidan caught her hand. He pulled her back to shore. It had all looked so easy until she got out over her head.

Her skin stuck to the glass wall as Cicero pressed against her This was it then. It would be fast like Miranda said. It meant nothing. Sandalwood clogged her breath, and she stared up at the shadows moving from a fan on the ceiling. The world blurred away. She felt the emptiness on the finger of her left hand, and she could see Kaidan waiting for her on their deck. He was outlined in the red sunset, ocean spray spritzing his hair, his face turned to the horizon. He looked just like he had the night before she was taken away. She had almost sloshed wine on him when she crashed into him. She had raked fingers into his hair, looked into his smile, kissed him. He smelled like pine and fresh laundry. He tasted like exotic wine. He had held her face in his warm hands and kissed her.

“Stop!” Shepard shoved Cicero back.

His breathing was labored and expression dazed, but he lifted his hands and backed away. His face was smeared red like a clown. The world melted around her, heat stinging her eyes, and she grappled with her dress. She pulled the zipper up her back and left her heels turned over on the floor. She stumbled to the door.

“What’s happening?” Cicero came after her but kept a wary distance.

“We don’t need to have sex to have a deal.”

“Did you think I would force you? You’re always free to go.”

Her face burned. “I’m leaving.”

She rushed down the hallway to the elevator. Shaking, she pushed the button for the bottom floor. Cicero watched her from his apartment’s doorway with a pinched brow. 

“Something is wrong with you. Something’s changed.”

Shepard punched the elevator button again. Cicero came closer, hands in his pockets, and a darkening look on his face.

“Something’s going on with you and Alenko. If I can’t trust you, I won’t help you.”

The elevator dinged. Shepard edged so close to the door waiting for it to open, her breath fogged the platinum doors.

“Forget the relay and Shard,” he said. “Until I know whose side you’re on, I won’t say a word to Parliament in your favor. I won’t let anyone else either.”

The elevator doors opened. Shepard burst inside and jabbed the close button. Cicero walked into her line of sight, but the closing doors cut his cold stare. She just wanted to go home. She rested her forehead against the cool metal wall. Her heartbeat thundered over the dull melody of stringed instruments overhead. She could still feel Cicero’s palm on her bareback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings (last half): Dubious Consent (Attempt) involving self-pressure and perception of quid pro quo


	7. The Twenty-First Fleet Admiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy N7 Day, everyone! I suppose this isn't anything special for N7 Day -- it's the day I normally post -- but here's my contribution to the day nonetheless. You really can't get much more exciting than Bioware's contribution. Mass Effect remaster on the way in 2021! Yay! It's a good day in the fandom.

CHAPTER 7: The Twenty-First Fleet Admiral

_Apple blossoms scented the air. They bobbed in the breeze, dropping pedals onto Shepard’s head. Warm sunlight spilled green light through the translucent leaves. Mist hung in the mountain valleys overhead. The Alenko orchard was beautiful in the spring._

_Shepard’s heels sank into the soft grass and squished in the muddy underlayer when she moved to get a better view of the dance floor. A wooden floor dominated the meadow in front of a porch-wrapped white house. A red barn sparkling with fairy lights had vases of lilacs on its cloth-covered tables. An oak bar, still smelling of sawdust and wood stain, showcased a line of plumb-colored glass wine bottles with the Alenko name featured prominently. People mingled around her, sundresses and untucked formal button downs. Violins fiddled in the corner under the sound of laughter and conversations._

_“Hey! Hey! Hey!” A wiry, bed-headed man leaped onto an overturned apple crate next to the dance floor._

_He tapped his flute of champagne with a butter knife then tossed the utensil blindly behind him into the mud. An older woman with dark hair pursed her lips, hands suddenly on her hips. He didn’t seem to notice._

_He held out his glass, stumbling to stay upright on the crate, before steading himself with a laugh. “To my sister! Always said you were a catch. Have my genes after all. I knew with those birthing hips, someone, one day, would want ya.” Mutters and groans whispered through the crowd. “You deserve the best, Bec. Why the hell are ya settling on James? Probably the biceps. Cheers!” He toppled off the apple crate. He sprawled in the grass, laughing, and trying to drink an empty glass._

_“Dumb ass,” grumbled the woman next to Shepard._

_An antique gown hugged Rebecca’s curves in white lace and tulle. Apple blossoms decorated her thick black tresses and her cheeks glowed rosy and bright._

_“That was so touching.” James put a hand to his heart. His muscles just about ripped out the seams in the tuxedo. “Oh, hey, Joker, man. You got that on film?”_

_“Full technicolor and 3-D.” Joker passed by with his cane, sipping champagne, and clearing doing nothing else._

_A deep, gravelly voice spoke behind her. “He gives this speech at every wedding.”_

_Shepard froze, hair lifting up her arms, and a pounding building in her chest. She turned slowly. Kaidan smiled brightly, and her insides somersaulted. He was as striking as ever. He wore a light, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. A bit of soft skin showed through the unbuttoned collar, and she had to lock her knees against reaching out for him. She knew how her fingers would feel moving the buttons apart and touch the warmth of his skin as it flushed under her fingertips._

_“Shepard, hey.” Kaidan gave her a hug. It was so quick she couldn’t register it was happening before it was over._

_“Bec.” James touched Rebecca’s elbow. “Think we should ballamous or somethin’? It’s what they paid to see.”_

_“Let’s go before someone takes back a toaster.”_

_Rebecca shoved her glass at Kaidan. He had his own glass of bubbles in one hand, but he accepted her glass reflexively. James helped lift Rebecca’s lacy cascade of skirts, and they rushed onto the dancing floor scattering the other dancers._

_Kaidan lifted his two champagne flutes. “Double-fisting it in all the pictures? What are future generations of Vegas going think? ‘Ah, there’s Uncle Kaidan. The drunk who fell off the apple crate giving a toast, right, Dad?’”_

_“Here. I’ll help you out then.” Shepard plucked Rebecca’s glass from his fingers and took a drink. “I was too dry anyway.”_

_Kaidan’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s how a whole wedding party comes down with mono.”_

_“You kissed Becca on the lips on your way into the ceremony.”_

_“What? It was off centered, the corner of the mouth.”_

_“Half mono then.”_

_“Eh.” Kaidan shrugged. “Your angle was all wrong. Quarter, maybe.”_

_“Quarter mono.”_

_“Quarter mono.” Kaidan drained his glass and set it on the table next to them. “How are you?”_

_The question reminded her of Liara’s response a year ago on the comm. Shepard had to bite her tongue to not say she was in excellent health. He couldn’t know Shepard eavesdropped on their conversation._

_“I'm the same as always. It’s been a long time, Kaidan.”_

_“Yeah. It has.” Kaidan’s smile weakened._

_“Almost three years. You look the same.”_

_“Got a new razor. Feel like I get a closer shave now.”_

_Shepard grinned and waited until he looked her in the eye. “Seriously, Kaidan. How’s it been?”_

_He held her gaze, and her blood pulsed harder. “Shepard, I--”_

_“Shepard.” A soft voice accompanied a blue hand curling into Kaidan’s elbow._

_“Liara.” Shepard flashed Liara a strained smile. When Shepard lifted her eyes back to Kaidan, he was gazing at Liara with a gentle smile. He covered Liara’s hand with his palm and held it in the crook of his arm. Shepard’s heart dropped, but her smile couldn’t._

_“I missed you on Ilium,” Shepard said to Liara. “The last couple of times I was by, your apartment was shut up.”_

_“The Orian relay opened three months ago.” Liara’s eyelashes fluttered like butterflies above a coy smile._

_“I heard,” Shepard smiled back brittlely. Liara had been living on Orian Station then for the last three months. Living with Kaidan. Shepard turned her attention back to him. “Vega and Rebecca waited to set the wedding date for when you had leave. Why’d it take so long? I thought the minute the gate opened, you’d be on a ride home.”_

_“Everyone wanted to go home. The Alliance gave month-long leaves to all service members. It took four shifts to get through everyone.”_

_“You took last shift?”_

_“I’m the area commander. Seemed right.”_

_Liara smiled at him. Her fingers indented tighter into his sleeve. The tender look Kaidan returned made Shepard’s stomach invert._

_She turned away sharply. “Refill. Excuse me.”_

_She hustled to the bar where the air was easier to breath. James stood there with an empty drink in his hand._

_“Hey, Lola. You wanna dance a gig or somethin’?”_

_“Uh, sure,” Shepard said absently, but her eye caught on a man slumped over the table beside the bar. He held his face in his hands. “Jacob?”_

_He looked up sharply and took a deep breath. “Hi, Shepard.”_

_Shepard slid down into the seat beside him. “You all right?”_

_“Brynn. You heard, right?”_

_“Yeah. Is she here?”_

_Jacob nodded, folding his arms, and sat back in his chair. “Flew up separate. She met Becca at that Centennial Celebration last year, so yeah. They’re friends, so she came. I’m fine though.”_

_“I’m sorry.” Shepard toyed with a napkin ring on the table unsure what to say. “It’s just a separation period, right? Things can still work out.”_

_“Don’t know ‘bout that. You came for a drink?” Jacob rose on wobbly legs. He gripped the back of the chair to steady his sway. Empty bottles on the table spoke to making good use of his spot next to the bar._

_“Uh, yeah. I did.” Shepard got to her feet. “I’m really sorry about--”_

_Jacob pulled her into a sloppy hug. “We got a kid together, Shepard.”_

_“I know.” Shepard patted his back weakly. “Just try patching things up with her. You never know.”_

_Across the dance floor, Kaidan stood with two familiar faces. Joker and Adams were laughing and sharing a story, but Kaidan’s eyes were on her. He was frowning. Jacob pulled Shepard in tighter and turned his face into her neck. His cheek was damp against her jaw. She patted his back again lightly._

_“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his face, and pulled away. “I just -- Catch you later, Shepard.”_

_He rushed toward the house, maybe to the bathroom. Kaidan had already turned away. He was giving an older, bowed-shoulder woman a hug. She was a family member judging off the dark, gray-threaded hair and olive skin. For a moment, though, Shepard had held his attention._

_“Whoa.” James was still at the bar and came over clicking his tongue. “Rough times, huh?”_

_“Yeah. Surprised they both came to this thing.”_

_Brynn was on the dance floor with two of the bridesmaids. From her cartwheeling coordination, she’d been hitting the open bar hard herself._

_“Where’s your bride, Vega?” Shepard’s eyes landed on Becca over by the cake table. She was sitting on her heels in a cloud of white tulle talking to Brynn and Jacob’s five year old. She pinched his cheek and tickled his stomach. He laughed, batting her away, only to come closer again when she stopped. Shepard lifted her eyebrows and looked over at James. “Oh my.”_

_“Why’re you doing that?”_

_“What?”_

_“The eyebrows. You know the look. I’m already uncomfortable in this penguin costume, you gotta make it worse looking at me like that.”_

_“She seems pretty taken with John. Saw her holding her cousin’s baby earlier too.”_

_“Well . . .” James shrugged. “Figure that kind of comes next, you know?”_

_“Really? James Vega, the Party King?”_

_“Hey, she’s got birthing hips. You heard Henry.”_

_“I’m sure that was your first thought about her hips.”_

_James grinned crookedly and laughed. “Nope.”_

_“Vega, the family man.” Shepard just shook her head. “Becca’s a twin, right?”_

_“Yep.”_

_Shepard gave him a sly smile. James narrowed his eyes._

_“Don’t like where you’re going with that one, Lola.” James drank his beer and gazed at Rebecca with a fuzzy smile. “Ya know, when we were broken up last year? I thought, ‘Good. Free at last. Uncage the Vega, like he’s meant to be.’ Took a while to work up to hitting the club, but finally did it. Met this chica at the bar, really started hitting things off. Then I saw Bec. Same place, same night. What’re the chances? Here at this high rolling Vancouver club, and this guy’s draped all over her. About broke out of my skin seeing him go in for a kiss. Wanted to slug him, you know? Only I had this blonde with me, and Bec and I weren’t together. After that, I knew. I knew who I really wanted.”_

_Shepard’s eyes strayed to Kaidan. He was laughing at one of Adam’s stories. Liara leaned against him, their fingers intertwined._

_“That so?” Shepard said absently. “You realized you were with the wrong person.”_

_***_

_“I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?” Kaidan wove around the wedding guests in the house._

_Shepard stood in the entry hall below the staircase, her hands smelling like lily of the valley from the soap in the bathroom. The wedding guests were starting to leave. The sun was falling and a cool wind was coming down from the mountains. The air smelled like spring rain and mud. The house’s front door was open allowing a full view of the orchard, the twinkle-lighted barn, and now-vacant dance floor._

_Liara stood outside on the house’s steps speaking enthusiastically with two women. Shepard had identified them as Kaidan’s mother and sister. His mom kept patting Liara’s arm. Her smile hadn’t faltered since coming across Liara on the steps and pulling her into a hug. Kate, Kaidan’s sister, seemed equally gleeful, telling some story with waving hand motions and grabbing Liara’s shoulder when she laughed. Shepard turned away._

_The office at the end of the back hall had the coats. Umbrellas and light trench coats cluttered the couch. Jacob was sitting on the couch’s armrest, shoulder slumped, and staring unfocused at a pile of lady’s pea coats next to him._

_“Is that purple one yours?” Shepard asked with a grin._

_“Oh. Didn’t hear anyone come in.” Jacob blinked, clearing his eyes, and stood._

_Shepard paused over the coffee table. A datapad sat on the corner of the table. The screen was black, and when Shepard pressed the middle key, it lit up with the Alliance emblem. A cursor blinked waiting for a passcode. Below it was the symbol for the Terminus System._

_A male voice boomed in the distance “Hey, Joker. Have you seen--”_

_“Kaidan. Like, everyone’s already heard you. If I still had your datapad at this point, I’m obviously not planning on giving it back.”_

_Shepard’s heart beat harder. James told her he knew, just knew Becca was the one when he saw . . . Shepard glanced at Jacob. She shut the door slightly, leaving the datapad on the table. and came deeper into the room._

_He was still staring down at the coats. “I’m looking for Brynn’s . . . Damnit, Shepard. Which one’s even hers?”_

_She stepped in closer and slid a hand up his arm. “Need help?”_

_He looked at her sharply, eyes silver with tears, but with something else too. Something deeper, a far off flame, a veiled yearning. She’d seen it before in him, here and there, fleeting but present. The Terminus System logo glared up at her from the table. Kaidan was still calling for it from down the hall._

_Shepard touched Jacob’s face. Her sly smile, breathing in his face, and a brush of lips. That was all it took. His mouth was rough, but she met it with tongue and teeth of her own. He made a muffled sound, and a dam of control broke loose. His hands roamed over her. Shepard strained to hear the sound of footsteps. Fire flushed up her body as Jacob pressed against her._

_For the first time, the idea of having sex with someone else after losing Kaidan didn’t repulse her. Maybe more of this was what she needed. She’d held back from being with anyone else, waiting for Kaidan without even meaning to wait. Something like this, the primal rush and thirst of fire and skin, this could wash him away. The last threads. It was a last resort._

_The open silver of the doorway drew her eyes. Waiting. Her heart pounded out the seconds straining to hear his footsteps stop dead in the doorway and that sharp intake of breath. Jacob slid her strap down her shoulder, and she sucked in her breath. Her vision blurred. Jacob's mouth trailed down her shoulder. Her nerves exploded. Beyond her fogging senses, she could hear footsteps. Finally. Footsteps coming this way. The door opened. The steps stopped._

_Shepard turned her face to the doorway. Her heart sank. It was Liara. Liara stood frozen in the doorway, her blue eyes wide, and a hand to her mouth. Footsteps, too light to be Kaidan’s, came around from behind her._

_“Jacob, did you find my--” Brynn stopped dead._

_Jacob pulled away sharply and adjusted himself. Shepard looked down the hallway behind Liara and Brynn. No one else was there. Brynn gasped, almost more of a sob, and spun away. Her footsteps beat like thunder down the hall. Jacob ran after her._

_Shepard’s heart slowed from the dying rush of blood and chemicals. The room fell silent. Liara’s eyes dropped to the datapad on the edge of the coffee table. Stiffly, she lifted it. The cursor blinked on the still-lit screen._

_“Kaidan was looking for this.” Liara touched the symbol on the screen for the Terminus System. “This was on. You saw it was his. He’s been asking for it.”_

_Shepard adjusted her strap back into place. Liara looked up from the screen with a dark expression. Her fingers curled tighter on the datapad. Her lips pressing so tight they blanched into a light blue._

_“You thought he’d come for this. You wanted him to see . . .”_

_Shepard’s face burned, but she kept her expression flat and didn’t respond. Shepard waited for Liara’s next words. Instead, Liara spun from the room and left with the datapad viced-gripped in her fist. Shepard stared blindly at the coffee table, her gut rolling, and a thousand directions tearing apart her thoughts. Her legs were carrying her down the hall before she’d decided what to do._

_“Where’s Liara?” Shepard demanded trotting down the outdoor steps._

_Cortez and his date were talking to Joker on the lawn. The group went silent._

_Joker frowned at her. “Liara?”_

_Cortez motioned to the apple trees. “She and Kaidan went that way. Just a few minutes ago. Have you met Andre? He’s been--”_

_“Thanks.” Shepard moved away._

_She rushed through the mud in her heels. The air was scented with flowers. Sunset bloomed in the leaves and lit the petals around her in a wildfire of reds and pinks. The Alenko family orchard: she’d always wanted to see it. Kaidan’s uncle lived here. It had been in the family for hundreds of years, the place Kaidan’s father grew up, where they came on holidays. Kaidan had described it to her while they lay in bed under the glow of her fishtank. He’d promised to show it to her one day. That was before frat regs and circumstances tore them apart. Now, Liara was here._

_Liara was probably staying with Kaidan’s family on the coast. She could imagine Liara curled up against him in his childhood room. He’d run his fingers up and down her arm as they lay listening to the crickets outside the window. He’d tell her about the tricks he played on his sister. Talk about how he loved the beach when he was a boy, swimming even when it was cold. He’d bring Liara to the shore, and they’d walk in the surf hand in hand like he used to fantasize doing with Shepard one day._

_When they left his parents’ house to return to “real life,” where would they go then? Somewhere together? Liara had been staying with Kaidan on Orian for the last three months. She may have already moved there. He was introducing her to his family. He’d never told anyone about his relationship with Shepard. His family didn’t know about them. Kaidan’s mother and sister had met Shepard for the first time today at the wedding chapel. They’d shared passing smiles and a hug that kept air between them. They knew of her as Kaidan’s commander. No one special._

_But they had clung to Liara when they met her. Before the ceremony while people were finding their seats, Kaidan had introduced his mom to Liara. Shepard could see it from across the chapel. The short woman squeezed Liara so tight, Liara’s shoulder blades ground together and her eyes bulged. Liara had returned the embrace with stiffly bending elbows. When his mom drew back, she grabbed both of Liara’s hands and said something with a big smile. Liara gave a shy, ducking smile, accepting a compliment perhaps._

_Kaidan’s sister’s family had been as enthusiastic as his mom. They met her right after Kaidan’s mom hugged her and while they were still finding their seats in the chapel. The little girls, Kaidan’s nieces presumably, stared at Liara in awe, shyly touching the silk of her dress, and beaming when Liara looked down at them. Perhaps they’d never met an asari. Kaidan’s sister said something with a booming laugh that made Kaidan look hot and flustered, but which made Liara smile softly sideways at him._

_During the reception following the ceremony, Kaidan’s mom and sister seemed to make a concerted effort in socializing Liara. They included her quickly, retrieving her from standing alone against the barn wall, and introduced her to tables of dark-haired Alenko family members. Everyone was eager to talk to her. Liara kept her hands clasped at her waist, giving a hesitant smile, and dipping her head with each introduction._

_By the end of the night, Liara’s stiff posture had melted. She moved among the family tables with an open smile and started conversations on her own. She easily accepted drunk hugs from the bridesmaids who repeated loudly how pretty Liara was. She helped clear the buffet table and moved freely in and out of the house like it was home, instead of Kaidan’s uncle’s house. Liara was suddenly family. Shepard was just a colleague._

_Twigs snapped under her heels as she searched below the leaves of the apples trees for some sign of them. There were voices ahead, and Shepard picked up her pace. Kaidan and Liara were up ahead, one row over walking hand in hand. Shepard closed in on them. She needed to get the apology out before it festered between them._

_Kaidan was talking to Liara, though Shepard couldn’t make out the words. She ducked below the leaves to scurry into their row and interrupt, but Liara moved first. She twisted in front of Kaidan and looped her arms around his neck. Shepard stood, hunched, frozen in place with bees humming in her ears and a leaf tickling her forehead. Liara walked backward drawing Kaidan with her arms until her back bumped against the scrawny tree trunk of an apple tree. She kissed him._

_The ground fell out from under Shepard. Time slowed. This was how James must have felt at the club. It’s how she’d wanted Kaidan to feel coming into the coat room. It choked her like drinking lead, each second pooling heavier in her chest. She wanted to move backward, to run away, but she was caught like a bug under glass._

_Kaidan’s face dipped into the crook of Liara’s neck. He kissed her throat, his fingers kneading her waist, and his body pressing her against the tree trunk. Liara tipped her head back against the tree trunk. Her eyes drifted over Kaidan’s shoulder and focused directly on Shepard. Shepard’s heart stopped. Liara’s lips curved upward._

_Liara turned her mouth to Kaidan’s ear, but her voice wasn’t soft like the whisper it looked to be. Liara’s eyes were on Shepard. “I love you, Kaidan.”_

_Kaidan mumbled something, but Shepard couldn’t understand it._

_“What?” Liara said and lifted his face by the chin._

_Kaidan cupped Liara’s face with both hands and caressed his thumbs across her cheekbones. “I love you, too, Liara.”_

_A part of Shepard broke. Shepard flew backward, beating leaves out of her way, and slinging mud up the back of her bare legs as she ran. She tripped when her heels met the soft grass. A part of her was dying. She could feel the tissue necrotizing in her chest, blood vessels shriveling away from a blackening center._

_She remembered the exciting rush of heat and excitement when Jacob’s hands moved up her body. She cut the line waiting for the shuttle back to Vancouver. It dropped her off at a seedy nightclub downtown. She wanted to find a man with dark hair. She’d thread her fingers through his hair and wrap her legs around him in the dark. She’d forget about everything else._

_***_

“Couldn’t do it?” Miranda’s voice woke Shepard. 

The apartment door swished closed. Heels clicked across the glassy floor. Shepard peeked over the back of the couch, eyes raw and scratchy, the dress constricting her ribs. She pulled a blanket closer around her shoulders. Miranda’s apartment was an ice box, no matter how high Shepard turned the temperature. 

“You look awful,” Miranda said. “You didn’t get that lipstick all over my white couch, did you?”

Shepard quickly flipped over the throw pillow and sat up all the way. “Bad dream. Memories, I think. Awful ones.”

“Memories? Memories of your better life in this other timeline.”

“No. From this one. This horrible life.” Shepard rolled off the couch, still burritoed in her blanket, and stood up. “You said Jacob hates me because of Vega’s wedding? Was it because of what happened in the coat room?”

Miranda opened her fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “I’m not amazed you remember your own life here, Shepard. If this is supposed to be proving something, it isn’t.”

“I’m trying to prove it to myself, not you. I need to know if what I dreamed was true. Is that what happened? I kissed him in the coat room and Brynn saw?”

“Brynn sent him divorce documents the next day. Jacob tried to contact you. Thought you actually meant something by kissing him. I don’t know what you said to him in explanation. He won’t tell me, but he hasn’t forgiven you for it. But then, you know that.” Miranda cracked the lid on her water bottle and took a drink.

“In my timeline, James and Becca married earlier. It was fall, not spring. We had hard apple cider. There were pumpkins and piles of leaves fallen from the apple trees. The sun went down early, and there was a bonfire. Roasted marshmallows, which Joker got in his beard. None of us told him. It made for some good wedding photos. 

“I remember, my daughter was just starting to walk, and it had sprinkled on and off all day. She fell face-first into the mud. Had on this floofy, cream-colored dress her grandmother gave her, white shoes. She didn’t cry, but I nearly did when I tried to get the stain out the next day. It was hell. 

“And, that’s what I remember of James’s wedding. Brynn and Jacob were there as a couple with John. They separated a few months later, went through a rough patch, but they sorted it out. They’ve been happy living in Rio since. Had more kids. Jacob was happy when I last saw him. That was only a couple of months ago.”

Miranda drained more from her bottle and shrugged. “Sounds nice, I suppose. That’s not what really happened. I couldn’t make it to the wedding myself -- business -- but I know in North America, the wedding was in the spring.”

“My dreams are real then. They’re chronological. The first was ten years ago. This one? Seven.” Shepard shed her blanket onto the back of the couch. 

Miranda choked on a mouthful of water. “That’s my dress! Twelve thousand credits, Shepard. I’m glad to see he didn’t rip you out of it, but don’t sleep in it. What are you thinking?”

Shepherd wasn’t going to mention the heels she left behind. She walked backward down the hall while unzipping the dress, and then tossed it to Miranda.

Miranda caught it out of the air. “Where are my heels?”

Dammit.

“Might need to send me an invoice on that one. Sorry.” Shepard plodded to her room.

Miranda followed. “Those were vintage Serenea Harpers. Do you know how much they cost?” 

“I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll pay for them.”

“What happened?” Miranda leaned against the bedroom door frame.

“Nothing. Nothing happened.” Shepard fell on the end of the bed. Wearing only underwear, she hunched over and buried her fingers into her hair. Under her toes spread the cold endlessness of space.

“I see.” Miranda wandered across the room. “I guess, you won’t need this then.”

Something hit the bed beside Shepard. She turned her head. It was a small box, ring sized, but Shepard doubted this was a proposal.

“What’s this?”

“What you wanted. I came through, like always. Open it.”

Shepard opened the lid. It was two things: an electronic chip of some kind, Omni-Tool hardware maybe, and a vial of white foam. When Shepard’s fingers touched the vial, she knew.

“Eezo?”

“You wanted something mobile. There you go. One vial, one chance. More would be too much for your system in that short of a time frame. Put it in your Omni-Tool’s medigel port for injection when it’s time.”

“The eezo was in the air, not my body.” Shepard turned the vial in her fingertips.

“I don’t think it should matter. Eezo can’t be legally aerosolized as I’ve said. It’s the best I can do for that. The spark chip is for your Omni-Tool. It will install it’s own software, and the hardware has the capability of releasing a sustained single, powerful electrical charge. Should be the right level to mimic a storm. Most Omni-Tool hardware can’t handle that level of discharge, but this has proprietary hardening. Cybernet technology. It will work. As long as the Shard particles are strong enough on you, then you’ll have the rest of the recipe right there: eezo and electricity. Plus, your own biotics, if that’s a factor.”

Shepard put the vial back in the box beside the spark chip. She placed it on the nightstand.

“That’s it? No ‘thank you’.”

“Thanks. You came through. I didn’t think you were willing.”

“I always end up helping you despite my better judgement.”

“I can’t get through the relay.” Shepard scooted backward on the bed and slouched against the headboard.

“He couldn’t help you, or he didn’t want to?”

“He gave me a promise at first. I don’t know if it would have worked, but he seemed confident in himself.”

“Then?” Miranda settled on the corner of the bed.

“Like you said, I couldn’t do it. Now he won’t help. Said he’d prevent me getting Parliament’s support. That’s even if there was another way to get it.”

“Well . . .” Miranda let out a long breath and folded her hands on her knee. “Men like that when they can’t get what they want . . . Sometimes playing hard to get can whet the appetite. You could try again. You may get a stronger promise than you did the first time.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Because you think it’s cheating?” 

“Not because I’m breaking a vow. It’s just not him, and I can’t do it. I thought maybe I could, but I can’t.”

“Seems foolish. It’s nothing more than exactly what it is. If you wouldn’t romanticize it.” 

Shepard twisted and set her feet to the floor. This conversation was going nowhere. Miranda caught her arm before she stood.

“That said, Shepard, it was selling yourself. I didn’t approve of the principal behind it when you first told me. Once you’d decided, I just thought . . . But if you can’t do it, then you can’t do it.”

“Yeah.” Shepard rose to her feet and picked the small box off the nightstand. If nothing else, this box was the first physical evidence that anyone cared about her. “Thanks for this, Miranda. When I figure out what I’m going to do, this will be important.”

Shepard slid the box into her duffle bag and rifled through her clothing for something to wear.

“So, what are you going to do?” Miranda twisted on the bed to face her.

“I don’t know.” Shepard pulled out a shirt at random. The long sleeves caught in a twist with the other clothing, and she had to tear them apart.

“Can anyone else, other than the Alliance, give you permission through the relay?”

“Wilson said the Council doesn’t have authority over it.”

“Only the Alliance Parliament?”

“Yes. Without Cicero’s support and his cronies, I won’t have enough sway in Parliament to get it authorized.”

“It’s a majority wins sort of vote then?”

“I assume.” Shepard tugged the shirt over her head. “Cicero has command of the Sol System, and apparently, he has the Parliament controlled.”

Miranda tapped her lip and leaned back on one arm. “Nothing threatens him then?”

“Kaidan does. Cicero’s worried he’ll lose his spot in Sol.”

“Cicero can’t have such complete control of Parliament then. Why would he worry about being displaced, if his power was so absolute?” 

Shepard paused with one leg in her sweatpants. “You think Kaidan has power in Parliament?”

Miranda shrugged. “He’s had bad press lately, but he has been their poster boy the last few years. What happened to Liara bought him some pity from the public. The hate seems to have ebbed, at least, in the media. Perhaps Parliament too. Cicero must think Alenko has some sway if he’s worried about being supplanted.”

“Kaidan wasn’t able to convince them not to send me to prison. He had to get Councilor Wilson.”

“That shows he cares. Perhaps you could persuade him to try convincing Parliament. He’s a Spectre. Perhaps he could overrule Parliament’s decision on the relay.”

“He won’t risk his Spectre status or his position in Parliament by clashing the roles. Besides, if the Councilor himself can’t tell Parliament what to do, what can a Spectre say?” Shepard studied herself in a full length mirror then grabbed a hairbrush.

“Either way, Shepard.” Miranda came up behind her and met her eyes in the mirror. “Unless you’re going to tell Cicero you made a mistake and make up to him, Alenko’s your best bet.”

Shepard pulled the brush through her hair in a jerky motion. Her mind turned the idea around in her head. A sick feeling rose in her gut. 

“I don’t know.” She tossed the brush onto her bed and moved to the bathroom.

“Why not?”

“He hates me.”

“He saved you from prison.”

Shepard paused at the bathroom door. He had sought her out in the hallway and offered her advice. He had gone even further then and gotten the Councilor himself. Shepard pivoted to face Miranda.

“What do you have to lose?” Miranda said. “All he can say is ‘no,’ right?”

***

Shepard felt like a stalker. She’d gotten Kaidan’s personal comm number from Miranda, but something held her back from using it. Even if he answered her call, it was doubtful anything she said over comm would persuade him. There was a better chance if she could look him in the eye in person. He couldn’t escape with a weak excuse and a quick goodbye, then drop the call.

She had taken a shuttle to Vancouver HQ to do it in person. She stood in the glass, flag-adorned hall outside the leadership wing like she had before when waiting for Hackett. She hadn’t seen Kaidan then, and she wasn’t seeing him now. She shifted on the hard bench, her heart dropping with each fleet admiral who appeared and wasn’t Kaidan. 

The fleet admirals passed, shuffled stacks of datapads in their arms, and were already answering comm calls in their ear. They smiled and shook hands as they collectively streamed to the skycar pad outside the main entrance. The smiles were for the weekend, certainly not for her presence. When they noticed her sitting under the potted ficus tree, against the window, their smiles would drop. They’d turn their eyes away sharply, pulling themselves taller as they passed, even picking up their pace lest she was there to talk to one of them.

“Admiral Sheng.” Shepard smiled at one of them. The woman gave the faintest nod, only glancing sideways long enough for assurance Shepard wasn’t actually approaching her.

Shepard was spared seeing Admiral Cicero. At least, so far. It was why she had nested so close to the leafy fichus. She hadn’t seen Admiral Hackett so far either. Something told her he had probably already come and gone. She saw half of the admiral -- she was keeping count -- before the stream dried up to a trickle. Then the leadership hall stood silent. Silent, except for the guards manning the desk at the mouth of the wing and some assistants buzzing through the HQ hallways, waving papers and thumbing through their Omni-Tool screens. But, as for the admiral uniforms, they had dried up. 

Rain tapped on the glass behind her. The low rumble of thunder overhead made the lights flicker in the entrance hall. Shepard sighed and stood up from the bench. The fleet admirals were all at recess for the weekend. The Sol relay was in a sad state, Earth was cut off, and outside the systems, the Alliance was effectively at war with the krogan. Yet, a holiday was a holiday apparently. The Galactic Council was on recess for a month. The Alliance fleet admirals were taking a weekend. Damn holiday.

Shepard stared at the address on her Omni-Tool. It was Kaidan’s Vancouver address, a high rise apartment ten minutes north of the Alliance HQ’s building. It was a high-class part of town. It wasn’t far from Councilor Wilson and Admiral Cicero’s ivory towers. All very nice probably, but it wasn’t Kaidan’s dream house overlooking the Pacific on the Sunshine coast. But, by all accounts, Kaidan hadn’t spent much time in Vancouver anyway over the last ten years. 

The address glared back at her from the screen. Showing up there uninvited could backfire spectacularly. She couldn’t count on him buzzing her up, which meant she needed to stake out the front doors. She’d need to wait for someone to let her through. The whole idea was the epitome of stalking.

Shepard paced. The guards across the hall followed her with their eyes. They nodded at her and even smiled, obviously recognizing her and not with contempt, but they wouldn’t let her through though. In all likelihood, Kaidan was already gone anyway. It was late afternoon. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, a form slinking along the wall. She turned, and the bulky shadow shot through a side door to the outside.

“James!” Shepard rushed after him.

She spilled out the door onto a railed walkway running along the building. Rain caught in her eyelashes, and a cool wind lifted the hair off her neck. He was just ahead of her.

“James! Wait.” 

He had his uniform jacket over one shoulder. His white undershirt was starting to stick to his skin in the sprinkle. He turned, splashing in the growing puddle on the walkway.

“Admir--uh, Spectre Shepard.” He had a bit of a frown and shrugged his jacket up higher against his neck.

Shepard stopped in front of him with rainwater beading down the bridge of her nose. Despite the pensive reception, she couldn’t contain the excited lift in her voice.

“Hey, James. It’s good to see you.” 

“Uh, you messing with me?” He peered at her. “You been drinking?”

“What? No.” Shepard brushed a wet strand of hair back from her cheek. “You’re mad at me, too, I suppose?”

“Mad? Nada. You’re pissed at me. Thought you were anyway.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Huh.” He scratched his neck with the fingers holding his jacket. “You, uh, track me out for somethin’?”

“Do you know where Kaidan is? Is he at his apartment in town? Maybe you could show me. I need to talk to him.”

Showing up with James might temper showing up uninvited at Kaidan’s private residence. It would be more social. This way, Kaidan wouldn’t know she’d gotten his address from Miranda. It was James who brought her to his door. 

“Doubt he’s there,” James said. “Went over a few days ago. Dropped something off. Furniture’s all covered. Didn’t look like he’s been there any.”

“Oh.”

Dammit. Maybe he’d gone to his mom’s then. It was a holiday. It made sense he’d be there, but the idea hadn’t crossed her mind until now. She couldn’t track him to his mom’s house up the coast. Shepard would have to wait out the whole weekend now.

“Why’re you lookin’ for him? I’ve got his number, in case -- you know -- you don’t have it or whatever.”

Thunder crackled overhead, but it didn’t drown out the chirp of James’s Omni-Tool. The jacket dropped from his shoulder, and he checked his ‘Tool. 

Shepard lingered uncertainly, while the rain put a chill in her bones. “Parliament’s on break for the holiday, right? You think he went home? His mom’s place?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. Look.” He pointed at Omni-Tool. “Just got an update on Terminus System piracy activity picking up near Rannoch. He sends this stuff middle of the night. Just got this one. He’s here, working somewhere.”

“Think he’s still holed up in the leadership wing?”

Maybe she could pull a fire alarm. No. Too many cameras.

“Nope,” James said. “No office there. Only our fancy local fellas get that. Got to be stationed in Sol or one of the mobile fleets. Mobile fleet guys are deployed most of the time, but they’re all here now. No spare rooms.”

“Where then?”

“Best bet’s the old Council wing. Spectre offices are over there and stuff. Though, uh . . . Nevermind.”

“What?”

“Nothin’” He looked away.

Shepard put a hand on her hip. “C’mon.”

“I don’t know. You’re still a Spec, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then, he’s probably not there. Not since you’re here. In the Spec offices, I mean.” James checked the sky and took a quick look at his Omni-Tool’s time. “I better go.”

“James--”

“Check around the old Council wing. He’s probably dug in somewhere over there. But, uh, you don’t need to mention I told you that.” James shuffled backward and pointed at her. “And we’re really cool? Even after I turned that transmission in? Picked you up?”

“I’m sure you had a reason.”

“Chido.” He grinned and started to turn, then paused. “Hey, you find Alenko . . . He won’t go out with Bec or me or anyone. I don’t think he’s left HQ once, except when he first got here. He saw his mom but didn’t stay or nothing out there. Guess he was grumpy even going once. At least, that’s what Aunt Ella told Bec. Ella said she’s been asking him to come out again, but he won’t. His sister’s even visiting with the kids and stuff. Won’t see her. He’s only returning every other comm call. Won’t talk long. Not carrying the conversation. You see him. I wouldn’t mess with him any, especially it being you and all.”

“You think I’d antagonize him?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know. It’s you. Wouldn’t take much to ruffle his feathers."

“I’ll keep his feathers prestinely unruffled. Don’t worry.”

“I mean, for real, Shepard, I’m not joking. Don’t mess with him right now.”

“I have no intention of it.”

“Sometimes with you, that don’t mean much.”

“Hey, before you go. How’re Becca and the kids? Tailor, Riley?” Shepard waited apprehensively. 

“Tailor? Weepy. Cried over me asking about some scarf. Riley? Speechless. I’m just speechless. Can’t believe the stuff that kid does. Got a third one on the way, you know.”

“Yeah?” A smile crept on her lips.

“Hope things work out for you. See you around.” 

Shepard watched him walk away, then slid through the side door back into the air conditioning. It hit her wet skin like a blast of ice. James suggested the old Council wing. She turned down the right corridor.

***

The Spectre offices were vacant as James had predicted. When the galaxy’s fleets were stranded in Sol after the reaper war, the offices had housed all the Spectre races of the galaxy. Now it felt dusty and stale. The offices were empty except for the one at the back. She glanced inside only long enough to confirm no one was there. Armor was piled next to the door with a N7 breastplate resting on top. A 3-D hologram of the Normandy glowed on the corner of the desk. Her office apparently, but she didn’t go inside. Instead, she returned to the hall. 

This was the old Council wing, where the Councilors and their administrative entourage had once set up camp while awaiting repair of the Sol relay. It felt as dead and empty as the Spectre offices it housed. The HQ building had grown too fast, too big, only to lose its bulk when the aliens went home and the Alliance military spread out across the galaxy. Now there were abandoned wings and empty offices. It was like an old man in a young man’s clothes, swimming in too much extra fabric. 

Footsteps tapped on the linoleum coming her direction, the first sign of life. Three junior officers appeared from deeper down into the wing. They spoke with their heads together passing a datapad back and forth.

“With the Terminus System fleet stuck in Sol, crime’s up in all quadrants,” said the woman in the center. “Federacy’s recruiting mercs to cause trouble. Test the waters. The Admiral gave you that report, Benston?”

Shepard watched them disappear into HQ’s main building. She cut down the hallway they’d come from. The overhead lights dimmed the deeper she walked into the silent wing. The doors along the corridor were locked. Wizened ferns looked like they might drop into a cloud of dust if she bumped the pots. Untouched grim covered the benches along the wall. 

There was sound somewhere up ahead: the murmuring of distant voices and shuffling of boots on tile. Light from an open doorway illuminated the end of the hall. Shepard neared the doorway, her steps slowing, and peeked through the doorway. 

She heard his voice before she saw him. He stood with his back to her on the other side of the room, facing a projection screen on the wall, and surrounded by a dozen officers mingling over side assignments. In the center of the room gleamed a map of stars and vectors, the Terminus System. While some of the officers in the room were pointing and whispering over it, Kaidan’s attention was firmly fixed on the comm call projected on the wall.

“Talk to the quadrant captain,” he was saying. “It’s important to move fast.”

A woman’s face filled the screen in unflattering magnification. Her white, blonde hair was pulled back so severely it gave her a cheap face-lift. The crease between her overplucked brows deepened at his words, a miracle with the tight skin. 

“That’s just not possible, Admiral,” she said. “How can--”

“Yes, it is.” He stepped closer to the screen. “Take Captain Vance, the beta red squad, and regroup the infiltrators you disbanded in system eleven.”

“But if you--”

“I’m not there. You can do this, York. I know you can. Talk to Captain Vance.”

The woman pressed her lips into a tight line but nodded. “Very well, Admiral.”

“Keep me--” He stopped mid-sentence to check a flashing light on his Omni-Tool. He looked up sharply at the screen and continued in a rushed voice. “Keep me informed about the touchback. Let me know when you’re there.”

“Would you like me to start--”

“We’ll discuss it later.” Kaidan waved over one of the officers standing near the map. “Commander Smith.”

Whatever Kaidan said to him, Shepard didn’t catch. Kaidan disappeared through a side doorway at the back. 

Smith, staff commander by the stripes, faced the screen and turned on a datapad. “We can review the sector’s response system, Rear Admiral,” 

The woman on the screen, York, glanced at the door where Kaidan had disappeared then nodded for the commander to continue. “Commanders Landreth and Urk are there as well?”

“Here,” two of the officers by the map said in unison and walked to the screen.

Shepard walks into the room. The six officers not facing the screen look up at her with slight frowns. She kept her head high, shoulders back, and gave them each a curt nod as if she belonged here. They don’t step in her way. She circled the room to the open doorway where Kaidan had disappeared. 

It was an office of sorts, though probably not meant to be one. The windows on the other side of the desk were dark with the late afternoon storm. Ripped sheet rock on the wall indicated there may have been mounted vid screens there at one time. The floor was carpeted instead of tile, and there was a counter along the side wall with an open space, maybe left for a refrigerator. Perhaps it had been an employee lounge at one time, back when it was first built for the Council.

Kaidan faced the window with his back to the door. The screen on his Omni-Tool flickered with movement, and a light voice spoke: feminine and high-pitched with a burst and stop pace. The words were too quiet and jumbled to make out. Shepard didn’t want to make them out. This obviously wasn’t a work call, and she was dangerously close to crossing a line. Shepard took a step backward, but Kaidan’s eyes sharpened on her reflection in the window. Shepard’s heart dropped.

“I’ll call you back,” he said.

He snapped down the Omni-Tool screen and turned around to her. Shepard lingered in the doorway, half on the carpet, half on the linoleum. At her back, the commander’s voice was till reading off a list of locations and service numbers. The other officers were shuffling datapads and mumbling about vectors and squads. 

“Wondered how long it would take.” Kaidan folded his arms and leveled his eyes on her. 

“Spectre Alenko.” She tried to pull up a smile, but it melted under his dark stare.

Her heart beat louder than the rain tapping on the window behind him. She had no reason to feel this way. Like Miranda said, if he said no, he said no. Knowing that fact didn’t help though. Her heart still thrashed against her ribs like a caged pigeon. 

Kaidan came around the desk. “Well?” 

He motioned expansively and sat back against the edge of the desk.

“You were expecting me?” Shepard asked, venturing a few steps onto the carpet. He didn’t throw anything at her, so she edged in further.

“Close the door.” He nodded at the doorway behind her.

She hit the button. The commander’s voice and the static hiss of the projector cut away behind the door. The rain and wind were the only background noise left.

Kaidan’s eyes were bloodshot she realized as she drew closer. His five o’clock shadow was well past five o’clock. The day before, it may have been a five o’clock shadow. It reminded her of all the weekends and holidays when she’d see the grainy shadow darkening his jaw. Her eyes fell on a pillow and a gathering of blankets sitting in the corner on a cot.

“You’re sleeping here?” she asked.

Kaidan didn’t follow her gaze.

“Well?” he said again. “The audience is seated. Go ahead with the show.”

“What show?”

“The same one you gave Admiral Hackett. I heard Councilor Wilson caught the matinee.”

Shepard pressed her lips tight and stepped toward him. His posture stiffened, and he shifted uncomfortably against the edge of the desk. It was a satisfying reaction, and she stepped even closer.

“All right,” she said. “You already know then. What do you say?”

“Pass.” He slipped sideways, as if not wanting her to get any closer, and stumbled around the back corner of the desk. He snatched a datapad off the surface. “You can go. Sorry I had you shut the door. Didn’t realize it would be so painless.”

“Oh, it’s not going to be painless.” There was a chair against the wall. Shepard dragged it to the desk and sat with a thump.

“You have my answer. Think sitting there will change anything?”

“I don’t know.” Shepard crossed her legs. “You’re sleeping in here. If you don’t want me watching you drool on your pillow tonight, I think you might come around.”

“That cot isn’t exactly stapled to the floor.” Kaidan tossed his datapad back onto the desk and crossed his arms again. “Go ahead. Plead your case. I’ve already decided. I can’t imagine you saying anything to change my mind.”

Shepard drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair and studied him. He stared right back at her with a steady hardness.

“Heard you’re angling to get back to Sol,” Shepard said.

Kaidan’s expression darkened.

“I come back with a new Shard and fix the relay with your support, it might improve your image.”

“I don’t care about my image.”

“But you do want back to Sol?”

Again, he said nothing.

“Listen to me, K--Alenko.” She pushed off the armrest and stood in front of his desk. A computer terminal, some datapads, and the back of a picture frame separated them. “I can help you out. I know you don’t want my help, and if you don’t care about your image, fine. But doing this could tip the scale in your favor for becoming fleet admiral of Sol.”

Of course, she didn’t actually intend to return to Sol with the Shard, but she kept her face serious and eye contact firm. He gazed back at her, familiar brown eyes, and the lie made the blood back up inside her veins. But she wouldn’t be shaken. This was for him, after all, the real him, not this shadow version. Kaidan’s eyes dropped to the corner of his desk, to the picture frame facing away from Shepard. For an instant his brow pinched, but then his posture straightened again. His eyes flashed back to Shepard.

“No. That’s final.”

“There’s nothing I can say?”

“Nothing you can say.”

Shepard rubbed the pad of her finger against the sharp edge of the desk. He sounded firm. The tension in her ribs loosened a little. It was better this way anyway. The lie still tasted like acid at the base of her tongue. Lying to Cicero, Hackett, even Miranda, was one thing. Lying to Kaidan . . . 

“All right then.” Shepard pushed off the desk and straightened. “For the record, I appreciate what you did, bringing Wilson in for my hearing.”

Kaidan shrugged.

“Come on. You must not hate me so bottomless deep.”

“It was the right thing to do. You’re a Spectre. If they discharged you, you deserved immunity. I would have done it for anyone. Would rather have done it for anyone.”

Shepard glared. Everytime she spoke with him, he was deliberately caustic. She had to fight the reflexive spike in her blood pressure. 

“I came here to help you out, Alenko.” 

“Sure. Altruism in its highest form.”

“You think I have another motive?”

“I know you have another motive.”

“Which is?”

Kaidan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Just that you have one is enough for me to pass. You have twenty-one fleet admirals though. Cross me off, and keep checking down the list. That is, unless I’m already number twenty-one.”

“I can’t simply be motivated by a desire to fix the relay? I broke it. I can’t feel responsible for cleaning up my own mess.”

Again, Kaidan stood there. No response.

“I want to fix this. You and the rest of the Alliance want it fixed. Your deal with the Council to find a new Shard is one long, long dead end without me. I’m the one who touched the beacon. The only one who can get the Shard from a relay’s beam without breaking it.”

“We’ll see.”

“A long, long dead end, Alenko. You want to not be stranded in Sol for years or for forever, then you need me.”

Kaidan glanced down at the picture on his desk.

“If you want out,” Shepard repeated, “If you want this solved. Then help me help you. You know it will help unseat Cicero and get you the admiral spot in Sol.”

“Cicero?” Kaidan’s neck muscles tensed out of his skin. “Ah. So this has to do with him.”

“What?” Shepard’s face pinched.

Kaidan flew around the desk rattling the datapads, and knocking over the picture frame. “Is this to set me up for something?”

“Set you up? You’re paranoid.”

“Am I?” Kaidan stood closer. “You want this mission to happen? Cicero has the ability to pull the right strings. Why isn’t he helping you?”

“I don’t want his help. He only wanted to help me to hurt you.”

“Right. The only reason he’d want to help you.”

“What the hell’s that mean?”

Kaidan backed away with a grim smirk. “Come on. I’m not an idiot.”

Shepard’s face flushed feeling the ghost of Cicero’s fingertips trailing down her back with the unhitching zipper. His brandy-flavored, hot mouth on hers. His body pressing her against the wall. Her dress peeling away and her legs pushing apart by his knee. She drew in a sharp breath. 

Kaidan looked at her strangely, then took a hesitant step back toward her. This time, his voice was softer. “Look, Shepard. Far be it from me to cast the first stone, but don’t pretend. You probably think you’re using him, and it should be obvious what he gets from it, but he’s not that simple. You’re simple, if you think that’s all he’s after.”

His eyes had the same familiar overlapping shades of brown, like a prism crystallized from a rich liquor. So much like her Kaidan. The longer she was in this awful place, it felt like her other life could become the one that wasn’t real. She had just imagined it like Miranda believed. 

Shepard wanted to bury her nose in Kaidan’s neck, breathe him in, and brush her cheek against the sandpaper of his jaw. She wanted to feel his dark hair ripple through her fingers. She wanted to press her ear to his chest to hear the familiar rhythm of his beating heart. Feel the breath pulling in and out of his lungs. To kiss him. Taste him. Know how he felt. Because how could she have imagined it -- known how he would taste, feel, smell -- without having lived that life. It couldn’t just be a faded memory ten years dead. Her sense remembered him too well for it not to have been a week ago.

“You’re really doing this to fix the relay? Nothing else?”

Bile rose up her throat. “Yes.”

“And I can trust you?”

“Yes.”

Kaidan backed away and shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

Shepard nodded and turned to the door. It was more than she had hoped to get even that much.

“Shepard.”

She stopped in place and glanced back at him. He rolled his lips for a moment, then looked her straight in the eye.

“Remember what I said about Cicero. Be careful.”

Air tightened in her throat. “Thanks, Alenko.”

Kaidan grabbed his datapad from the desk and turned to the window. Shepard’s eyes strayed over the desk. Her heart stopped. The picture frame on his desk had fallen backward. A face stared up at the ceiling. Shepard scrambled out the door with the ground shifting under her feet.

***

Shepard sat in the rain. She watched the whitecaps and tasted brine of the hair stuck to her lips. The driftwood under her legs poked splinters through the fabric of her pants. Her eyes adjusted as the sky grew darker. The tip of her nose was numb. She wished her heart felt as numb.

Behind her towered white cliffs with the behemoth of Alliance HQ, a distant shadow in the growing darkness. A stonecut stairway crisscrossing down the cliffside from the Alliance Memorial Gardens. She had slipped on her way down. Now her knee throbbed. The rubber soles of her tenny shoes squelched in the sand. No traction. Should have known she’d slip. One bad choice in a timeline filled with a string of them. 

Her Omni-Tool lit up with an incoming call. It was Miranda.

“Damn, Shepard. What’s going on?” Miranda squinted into the camera. The wavering holoscreen on Shepard’s wrist gusted into pixels as each wave rolled in. “Can you even hear me?”

“I can hear you.”

“What?”

“I can--” Shepard cut herself off with a sigh. She brought the Omni-Tool so close to her face, her nose skimmed the screen. She yelled into the mic. “Can you hear me?”

“Barely.” Miranda’s voice crackled in the wind. “Any closer I could count your pores.”

“Count away.”

“What?”

“Count--Just nevermind.”

“Are you sulking?”

“I don’t sulk.”

“How did it go? I’m taking it, you got shot down hard?”

“I didn’t get shot down hard.” Shepard braced against the salty wind and moved to the stairway cut into the cliff. She sank onto the lower steps and pressed against the rock wall created as a railing. Her hair dripped as she adjusted against the shelter of the stone.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. He’ll think about it. Best I could get. Lucky I got that to be honest.”

“Good. I can finally hear you.”

“I’m sitting in a staircase.”

“Why aren’t you back on the Citadel?”

“I don’t know.” Shepard sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m just tired.”

“You’re on the beach, right? Will sleeping in the tide with seaweed and broken sand dollars fix anything? You don’t think you’ll have your bad dreams there, same as here?”

“I have bad dreams when my eyes are open.” Shepard gazed dully at the screen. “Miranda?”

“Shepard?”

“Kaidan. He . . .”

“What did he say to you? You want me to send my security guards to kick his ass?”

“No,” Shepard spat out and straightened against the wall.

“What then? You don’t think he’ll come around?”

“I don’t know. Hey.” Shepard waited until she had Miranda’s full focus. “I saw a picture on Kaidan’s desk. When I first found him, he was speaking to someone. Kaidan . . . Liara and him. They have a child?”

“Assume it’s his. She’s asari, so who knows.” Miranda rocked back in her leather chair. Behind her spread the lights of Citadel commerce, and above that, rotated the Earth, spinning too slow to even know it was spinning.

“What do you know about her?” Shepard asked.

“Who?”

“This . . . This child.”

“I don’t know anything. Does it matter?”

“Why’s she not here?”

“Who says she’s not?”

Shepard considered it. Kaidan had glanced at the picture when Shepard mentioned restoring the relay.

“No, I think she’s somewhere else. She’s on the other side of the relay. Maybe she’s in the Terminus System.”

“He’d be an idiot to leave her there with all the upheaval in that system, especially with the sheriff out of town.” Miranda rolled a stylus back and forth on the desk. “It is Kaidan, though, so it’s hard to say.”

“What’s that mean?” Shepard said sharply.

“Shepard, you know what I mean. He doesn’t think with his head sometimes. Never has.”

“Because he’s thinking about other people, not just facts and end points, like you, Miranda.”

“I’m only saying.”

“Just, don’t talk to me about him, all right?” Shepard leaned her face against the slippery stone wall.

“Hmm.” Miranda bit the end of the stylus and twisted it slowly in thought. She jabbed it at the screen. “Fifteen years. Same person. I didn’t care enough to connect it at first. It’s him, isn’t it?”

Shepard’s jaw squeezed so tight it hurt. She nodded.

“Kaidan, the great fifteen year long lover? Huh.” Miranda tossed the stylus up in the air and caught it. “He is attractive. I’d always have given you that, but Kaidan Alenko? Fifteen years? If I were you, I’d be hopping in a skycar right now headed for the nearest bar. Guilt-free. Sample some of what you’ve been missing. You may find you’re settling for something stale. I still think you could be happy here.”

Shepard slapped her Omni-Tool off and buried her face in both hands. This place was hell. Jacob, James, Miranda, Kaidan: she had no one. Her Omni-Tool glowed with a text message. Shepard ground her teeth but opened her inbox anyway. The message wasn’t from Miranda. The name that stared back at her made her pulse race: Kaidan Alenko. She tapped on it. One word:

“Yes”


	8. The Normandy

CHAPTER 8: The Normandy

The meeting was thrown together last minute. Only seven fleet admirals were left in Vancouver for the weekend. Only three had shown up, but the important one was here: the Sol System God himself. Shepard sat tall in her chair and returned his gaze with equal coldness.

“A dormant relay in krogan space?” Cicero said tersely.

The classroom-sized conference room echoed with his voice. Though cool and even-toned, it had a presence that commanded the room. Outside the window, the same summer storm from the night before was still pelting the glass with rain.

“We don’t have the majority of Parliament present to pass a decision,” Cicero said.

Councilor Wilson pushed back his chair and stood. Besides the three fleet admirals and herself, it was only the Councilor and Kaidan in the room. 

“The Council’s been apprised,” Wilson said. “I talked to Councilor Tevos this morning. The only councilor not returning my call is Ilk. The rest of the Council supports this plan.”

“The Council doesn’t decide this.” Fleet Admiral Hart fanned himself with a datapad. He shifted his weight to the squeaking protest of the conference room chair. 

“The Council will not condone inactivating an active relay, if that’s the alternative. Even a low trafficked one.”

“There are no other dormant relays, other than the one in krogan space?” Fleet Admiral Adami looked around the table. One of Cicero’s pets, she always looked like she’d been sucking on lemons.

“Dormant relays aren’t readily disclosed by species’ governments,” Wilson said. “You know that information is kept close. The Council can’t strong-arm the asari or turians or anyone else into helping the Alliance. Does the Alliance have any intel on one?”

“No,” Cicero said.

“Then what choice is there?” Wilson said. “This isn’t a Council problem, it’s an Alliance problem, a Sol System problem. The most we’ll do is condone retrieving the Shard from an inactive relay.”

“Fine. But not her,” Cicero said, firm and cool.

Kaidan rested his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers. “Who else do you propose extracts the Shard, Admiral?”

“But her? I agree with Cicero.” Hart’s jowls jiggled, and he pointed a pudgy finger at Shepard. “She fractured the Shard to begin with.”

“I know what I did wrong now. There’s no risk that I won’t extract it successfully.” 

“She’s not captaining an Alliance vessel,” Cicero said firmly. “Her Spectre status is the only barrier to her serving time in a military prison. She had no place on the bridge of a military vessel.”

“I’m not suggesting otherwise,” Kaidan said. “She’s not Alliance.”

“What are you suggesting then, Alenko? Send her off with a band of mercs and some tin can for hire? That’s our best hope? We’ll use our last relay activation on someone we can’t trust?”

“It’s krogan space. We need a stealth system,” Kaidan said. “The krogan can never know.”

“You’re suggesting the Normandy?” Adabi said.

Cicero leaned forward on the table and stared Kaidan hard in the eye. “She’s not getting her ship back after being dishonorably discharged. That’s not up for debate.”

“I’ll captain the Normandy,” Kaidan said. “Or any fleet admiral may. It doesn’t matter.”

Shepard’s attention sharpened. A fleet admiral accompanying her? Admiral Hart was about to say something.

Shepard’s voice ran over whatever he was about to say. “I’ll need another biotic for the Shard’s extraction.”

It was true, she needed another biotic for a successful extraction, but that wasn’t why she said it. Success for her was shattering the Shard, not extracting it. The likelihood of her plan succeeding would be compromised if Cicero arranged the mission. He was already suspicious of her.

“Commander Tompkins is a biotic,” Cicero said. “I see no reason the fleet admiral must the biotic.”

“I need someone exacting in biotics,” Shepard pressed. “Dexterous. Admiral Alenko has fine biotic manipulation skills.”

“It’s settled then. Admiral Alenko should head this,” Hart said wearily, fanning himself harder, and checking the time on the wall.

Cicero braced his fingertips on the table and stood. “We don’t have the full Parliament to make a decision. If this mission is discovered by the krogan, it could escalate the war. At best, we waste our last chance by losing a trip through the relay. At worst, this temporary cease-fire with the krogan will go up in smoke. We need the time to prepare. The krogan blaming a radical fraction was timely is giving us that. Our fleets are split. This mission would jeopardize the entire Alliance. It’s a grave matter to not be decided lightly.”

Kaidan stood himself. “I don’t need Parliament’s unanimous permission to take the Normandy. I’m a fleet admiral. As for accessing the Sol relay, I’ve discussed this with some of the fleets admirals over comm.” Kaidan pushed a datapad across the table to Cicero.

Cicero’s face darkened, and he took the datapad. “Ah. Hackett, of course, and . . . Appears there are only seven names here. That’s not a majority, Alenko. You’re an engineer. I thought you knew numbers.”

“Seven, then add myself, and if the three of you agree. That’s a majority. Double check my numbers on a calculator though.”

“We don’t have a choice but to support this,” Hart huffed and pulled the datapad from Cicero’s fingertips. He signed with his sausage finger then slid it to Adabi, but she looked to Cicero for direction. Hart stood up, floor creaking, and table scooting forward under the lifting girth of his belly. “If the Council won’t let us take a different Shard, we’re stuck. Pull this off, Alenko, it will mean something.”

“Indeed,” Cicero said. “If it goes poorly, I suppose that will mean something as well.”

“This is a sensitive mission,” Adabi said. “The Normandy’s stealth systems don’t engage in FTL. Traversing krogan space without FTL will be long and dangerous. Secrecy would be paramount.”

“I’m aware,” Kaidan said.

Cicero smirked at Kaidan. The ways his eyes shifted between her and Kaidan made Shepard’s skin chill. She didn’t like the change in his demeanor. 

“I suppose,” Cicero said, “if this mission fails and the krogan mobilize against the galaxy, the Council may reconsider. A low traffic relay may be a necessary sacrifice at that point.”

“Don’t try to maneuver the Council,” Wilson said testily. 

“Well, I suppose we have no better choice.” Cicero took the pad from Adabi and added his name. He held it out to Kaidan. “Parliament’s fallen star. Perhaps you’ll earn some of your glitter back, Alenko.”

“Johnson’s retiring,” Hart adjusted his jacket, buttons straining against their threads. “Parliament might see some seats shuffling to keep things fresh. Might get more than glitter on this one, Alenko.”

“I, too, hope you get more than glitter on this one, Alenko.” Cicero’s eyes strayed to Shepard. “Good luck, Shepard. May your last mission together aboard the SR-2 be as memorable as your last mission together aboard the SR-1. Farewell.”

Adabi followed Cicero and Hart out the side door. Shepard was left with Wilson and Kaidan in a room that felt like the air had gone out of it.

Wilson narrowed his eyes on Kaidan and lowered his voice. “This better go right, Alenko. You can not let the krogan find out about this.”

“I won’t.”

“Between you and Shepard . . .” Wilson snorted and looked between them with a frown. “If you two cause this war to explode now, the Alliance won’t survive.”

“It will go as planned,” Kaidan said and looked pointedly at Shepard. “Right, Spectre?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” Wilson said. “I hope for you, Alenko, it does. Hate to have both human Spectres stripped of their position. Spectres can’t be seen maneuvering species into galactic warfare.”

Wilson breezed out the door. Kaidan gave Shepard a long look then moved to the door himself.

“You’ll get a message,” he murmured and disappeared.

***

Shepard paced outside the docking gate and watched the steady flow of crew members on and off the ramp. The Normandy glistened outside the window in the morning sunlight. Shepard’s hair was still damp from the shower, and she carried her duffle bag over her shoulder as she strolled along the window. Miranda’s box with the spark chip and vial of eezo was inside the bag, insulated between layers of clothes. 

She hadn’t seen Miranda before she left. If Miranda wanted to leave off at their comm conversation on the beach, then that was fine. It still stung. Leaving Miranda meant leaving the only person who cared about her. At this point, that wasn’t saying much.

The crew members coming on and off the ship had open grins when they looked her direction. A few approached her direction before thinking better of it. These people were her crew from when she captained the Normandy. Even if she didn’t recognize them, they recognized her. 

Shepard was marginally surprised the crew hadn’t been traded out. There could be divided loyalties. This mission had been arranged last minute, and though over decade old now, the Normandy was still a unique ship with prototype technologies that hadn’t been rolled out to other Alliance vessels. Pulling in new technical crew members last minute could be difficult. Hopefully, it was a sign all would go well. If the choice to change out crew had been left to Kaidan, this could mean he didn’t see her history as the crew’s CO as a threat.

As if thinking of him summoned him, Kaidan stepped out of the loading bridge. He motioned for her to follow him. She adjusted her duffle bag on her shoulder and made a straight line for him.

“Take off in thirty. You can come aboard now.”

“Are you sure that’s safe now? Think of all the Alliance secrets you saved by not boarding me _ninety_ minutes before take off. Thirty is still a risk.”

“It wasn’t my decision.” He led her down the docking bridge with the metal grate rattling below their footsteps. He looked over his shoulder. “You know the rules?”

“Sure do. Even have them in writing somewhere for reference.”

“Good.” 

He stepped through the airlock and the door closed behind her with a hiss. The detox sequence scanned lasers around the room, and the sterile smell of recirculated air flushed into Shepard’s lungs. Kaidan eyed her from across the room. His look was neither kind nor unkind, simply indifferent, which somehow felt worse.

The door onto the gangway opened with a vacuumed smack. An old feeling of excitement ballooned in her chest as she stepped onto the deck. The cockpit was beeping. Joker’s voice was loud and unrestrained. The overhead vents hissed. The clack of her boots on the iron grate sounded like she remembered. It felt like another time, like her vision should be shifting to black and white. Even Kaidan was here in Alliance uniform. 

Joker swiveled around in his chair. “Hey, Admir--Uh, Shepard.”

“They’re still letting you drive this thing?”

“We’re a package deal.”

“Hey,” Kaidan looked at Joker and motioned for Shepard to stay in place. He moved into the cockpit. “Did you file that flight plan like I said?”

“Uh, yes, sir. Pounded it out like there was a gun to my head. Already sent.”

“Good.” 

Kaidan glanced around them, and Shepard followed his eyes. The copilot wasn’t in his seat yet, and the closest crew members were at the end of the gangway checking the diagnostics on the thruster alarms. Kaidan’s gaze lingered on Shepard a moment, then he turned back to Joker.

Kaidan lowered his voice. “Now it’s filed, make a new one. Less direct and the opposite way around Tuchanka.”

“What?” Joker’s eyes widened. “You can’t say that without hitting a cymbal at the end. That took me like--”

“Another flight plan. One you send to me. The one you follow.”

“If we take the other way around Krogan City . . . We’re already creeping. That’ll add days.”

“I don’t care. We come around Tuchanka on the other side. You, me, the copilot: the only people with copies.” Kaidan left before Joker could speak. Kaidan passed around Shepard, not even sparing her a glance. “Let’s go.”

Joker frowned at Shepard and motioned at Kaidan’s retreating back. “What the hell, right?”

“Just do it, Joker. I’m sure he--”

“Spectre.” 

Shepard turned to meet Kaidan’s dark, pointed frown. He was half way down the gangway, staring darts at her. His glare shifted to Joker.

“This isn’t your crew. Let’s go.”

Shepard adjusted the duffle bag’s strap on her shoulder and shuffled after him. She averted her eyes from the crew, who watched her trudging after Kaidan like being on a leash.

“You’re only passing through the CIC. You don’t have access to this floor.” He pressed the button for the elevator.

“I have the list of where I can go.”

“Might want to put it as your ‘Tool’s homescreen.” 

He walked her into the elevator. A corporal shuffled uncertainly at the elevator’s entrance, as if gauging whether he could get into the elevator with them. Kaidan waved the corporal back and pressed the button for the captain’s cabin. The doors shut. When they opened again, Shepard stood glued in place. Kaidan stepped out, and as if sensing she wasn’t following, he turned.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Shepard asked.

“I’m only getting off here to have said I escorted you aboard. Part of _my_ written instructions.”

“You’re not taking this room?” Shepard pulled the duffle bag off her shoulder and stepped onto the landing. 

He caught the elevator doors from closing. “You’ve slept here thirteen years minus -- what? -- a few weeks? I’ll be in the XO quarters.” 

“Liara’s old room?”

She regretted it the moment she said it. His mouth hardened. He backed into the elevator.

“Guess so,” he said flatly. “Captain’s deck and crew deck. That’s it. I didn’t write your rules, but I will enforce them.”

“There will be nothing to enforce.” Shepard smiled.

“Captain’s deck. Crew deck,” Kaidan repeated and pushed the elevator button. “I hope I can trust you.”

Shepard’s smile faltered. A lump formed in the back of her throat. The elevator doors closed. She shifted in the entryway in front of the cabin. The shadow of pipes and ducts overhead were as familiar as the beams in her house on the beach. The engines hummed below. The air always had an off chemical scent right on the landing. All as she remembered. It should have felt like home, but it didn’t. She walked into the captain’s cabin.

*** 

The fish in the tank had been removed. It was only empty water. Her hamster cage, the one she used to have in this room, was gone. Her ship collection was still there, and she spent a good part of the day looking at each piece, cleaning the crevices with a cue tip, and regluing wing panels and laser cannons. She rearranged them in the cabinets twice to get it right. 

She spun in circles on her desk chair. She watched Blasto on her Omni-Tool. She downloaded news articles. She considered jumping on her bed just for something to do that was kinetic. Getting Kaidan’s words out of her head wasn’t coming easy.

_“I hope I can trust you.”_

She fell asleep on the couch. She awoke feeling the jump. The subtle shift of prickling energy and a weightlessness washed over her. Then stillness. She threw off her blanket and sat up on the couch. She lifted her hands in front of her face. A tremor. She frowned. After a few minutes, it went away. They’d gone through the Sol relay.

She couldn’t fall asleep again. It had been ten years since she slept in this cabin. It was Vega’s cabin now, not hers. After leaving the Alliance, on the occasions she was aboard the Normandy, she stayed on the crew deck. As a Spectre, she stayed in the bunk room. Once she became Councilor, one of the lounges was put out of commission and given to her as a room. It was always a short trip, perhaps to drop her off at a diplomatic function or tour a new Alliance colony. Kaidan usually came. He’d accompany her during the day as a Spectre and hold her at night as something more. Shepard wandered around the cabin. She was going to go crazy being stuck in here, alone, reliving memories. 

_“I hope I can trust you.”_

Kaidan wanted to be reassigned to Sol, but that would be off the table once he failed to bring back the Shard. This Kaidan may not be the one who mattered, but it was still Kaidan in some sense. She didn’t want him crushed by a failure of her making. It was about her winning, not his losing. His failure was only an unfortunate byproduct. 

She’d make it up to him somehow. That was it. He needed a consolation prize. Trusting her might not gain him the Shard, but she’d find another he could come out ahead. She’d find him something better than the Shard. Nothing was coming to mind, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. She needed something to counterbalance this . . . feeling. The heaviness weighing down her stomach.

She needed to take her mind off it. She could think about it more later. Her computer terminal was blinking with a message. It was another message from “Azrael.”

_“Shepard. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”_

She sent back: _“Who is this? I’m tired of games.”_

She explored the private inbox. It was buried deep, but there was a file with recent messages to Wrex. They were dated after the Contender attack. In them, she spoke angrily about the krogan’s response to her intel. There weren’t any responses from Wrex in the file. All of her messages were unanswered. In the last email, she warned Wrex there would be war. The war . . . 

Shepard sat up sharply. That would be a hell of a consolation prize. Galactic peace would be far more impressive than bringing back a Mass Relay Shard. She could talk to Wrex and coordinate a discussion between him and the Councilors. A peace pact with the Council would lead to peace talks with the Alliance. Ending a galaxy-sized war was a far greater accomplishment than successfully restoring the Sol relay. 

She had been Human Councilor for eight years. She had experience with peace talks and smoothing feathers, and dammit, she knew Wrex. She could drill sense into his bony skull. She could arrange it all and then slide the credit onto Kaidan’s shoulders before taking her ticket home. After she was gone, he could lead the peace deal to its close. He’d get the ultimate credit. Win, win. 

Shepard reached for the comm button to call Wrex. She paused. Traveling through open space, comm signals, even ones from a personal Omni-Tools, routed through the Normandy’s antennae. Call destinations could be monitored. Making a call to someone on Tuchanka would be an automatic red flag if someone was paying attention. Kaidan was the type to pay attention. 

Shepard thumped back in her chair. If she tried to use any comm on the Normandy, Kaidan would catch her contacting “the enemy.” The Normandy didn’t have any stops along the way to call through another antennae. Kaidan couldn’t find out about the peace deal until it was nearly finished, or he’d interfer. It was impossible. 

Then again -- her eyes slid to the messages on the screen -- the emails she’d sent to Wrex after the Contender attack could have raised her sentence at the hearing. Communicating with the krogan after their attack would have looked bad. Numerous personal messages had been taken from the Normandy and entered into evidence, but not these. Even the Normandy’s antennae logs with destination to Tuchanka would have been evidence. These messages had missed detection somehow. She brought up the embedded transmission record within the email. A smile lifted on her lips. She suddenly felt much less bored. She had an idea.

***

“Hey, Admiral.” Joker set his lunch tray down on the mess hall table.

“You know I’m not an admiral anymore, Joker.”

“Yeah, but seems weird, right?” He lowered himself into a chair across from her. He moved slowly, his bones reinforced, but delicate. 

“Guess that’s what happens when you feed secret information to the enemy.”

“What enemy? The krogan?” Joker shook his box of milk and then peeled the mouth open. “Never thought of ‘em that way. I mean, now, yeah. They blew up Arcturus and all, but before then?”

Shepard folded her hands on the cafeteria table. The mess hall was mostly empty. The crew had talked with her at dinner like they knew her, eager to chat and excited to see her. She had carried along the conversation well enough, but it was nice to finally be with someone she actually knew from her timeline.

“So, hey.” Shepard lowered her voice. “Remember how you embed messages to Wrex in the static diffusion drops for me?”

Joker’s eyes rounded. He tugged on his cap and looked around them. He leaned in with a whisper. “Why’re you talking about that here?”

“Think you could do it again?”

“What?”

“Mask a transmission for me?”

“Kaidan’d kill me. Vega’s the one who figured out how you sent Tautum’s messages to Wrex from the Titan. In the static. Now they got that worked out, they’re probably looking for it.”

“That message wasn’t masked in a static offloading, just general nebula static. I checked. If the Alliance really knew about embedding messages in the ship’s static offload, don’t you think they’d have found all my other messages?”

“I don’t know.” Joker shifted on the bench. “Kaidan’s all -- I don’t know -- antsy and staring over my shoulder. He sees I have the feeds switched, the static muffler turned down . . . Like I said, I think he might actually kill me. He’s that bad of company right now.”

Shepard twisted her mug in a circle on the table with a frown. “Fine. Won’t ask you to do it.”

“You already asked me.”

“Won’t ask you again then.” Shepard took a long drink of her coffee.

Joker curled the spaghetti around his fork. “Why’re you needing to get a transmission out?”

Shepard leaned forward on the table. “I read through my messages with Wrex. This whole thing with the krogan. This war was coming. My genophage thing may have been the final push, but it was going to happen eventually.”

“Yeah. So?”

“I think I can help.”

She needed to be able to shatter the Shard guilt-free. 

“If I could talk to Wrex, I can fix it,” Shepard whispered. “Wrex wants krogan unity. If I can get the Council and Alliance to speak with Wrex and find concessions to appease both sides, then Arcturus could be the first and last battle of the next galactic krogan war.”

“Thought Wrex was dethroned or something. Some other krogan took over.”

“Wreav?” Shepard curled her lips. “He’s the one who destroyed the Acturus relay. That’s a crime against the galaxy. Wreav and his goons need to be seen as an extremist group, not representative of the krogan people. If Wreav did displace Wrex, there’s even more reason to talk to Wrex.”

“Hey, if anyone can shut down this krogan thing, you could, but even then, I doubt it. This whole--”

“A lot of whispering.” Kaidan stood over them.

Joker dropped his eyes to his plate. He focused on twirling spaghetti around his fork like it might escape. 

“We’re not whispering,” Joker said over a mouthful. “Just talking quietly.”

Kaidan’s eyes narrowed and flicked between them. He backed away. He snatched a liquid meal off the mess hall counter and disappeared into the XO’s room.

“See,” Joker said over a wad of noodles.

“Accused us of whispering? Hardly a reprimand, Joker.”

“Yeah, but he just, like, materialized. Came from nowhere.”

“He came from the elevator behind us.” Shepard slid off the chair. “Catch you later.”

“Six hours.”

“What?” Shepard paused reaching for her coffee mug.

“Six hours.” Joker pointed his fork at her. Some spaghetti slipped off the prongs. “I’ll be unloading the static charge.”

A smile spread on her lips. “Thanks, Joker.”

The XO’s door was closed. Shepard watched it and gulped the last bit of cold coffee from her mug. She set it in the sink and trotted to the elevator. She had preparations to make. 

***

Shepard checked the lock on her cabin door for the third time. She rechecked the time on her Omni-Tool. It should be in -- Static crackled in the air. Joker was right on the minute. She rushed to her computer terminal, already punching the code into her Omni-Tool, and waited for the transmission to embed into the static discharge. Now she needed Wrex to answer her call. He did.

“Urdnot Wrex.” 

“Shepard. Ha! It is you. Thought all those email messages were bait, but this was a vid call. Hard to fake that.”

“Hey.” Shepard sat forward in her chair. “Let’s get down to business. I don’t have much time. You liked that information I sent you on the Contender?”

Wrex’s pointy teeth showed in a frog-sized grin. Behind him was a dusty wall crumbling apart with a swampy, polluted sky behind it. 

“Thought you might not like how I handled it,” he said.

“I didn’t.”

“They had the genophage. They weren’t going to spare any of us. We didn’t spare them.”

“And Arcturus?”

“Wreav. Rallied the clan extremists. They want blood. Destroying one ship is a weak message, they say. Arcturus made him strong. Most of the clans follow him now. Combat in the arena must decide who is clan chief of clan chiefs. But he won’t face me, the weakling.”

“Glad to get caught up on the krogan game of thrones, but we need to talk. I did you a favor -- one I regret, but that’s neither here nor there -- you owe me a favor back now.”

Wrex’s nostrils flared wide. “You want to take your decision back? Doesn’t sound like a favor then.”

“Do you want this war?”

“Been going this way a long time, Shepard. Council had their chance. Alliance too. Too late now.”

“And no one gets second chances?” Shepard leaned in closer to the screen. “Wrex, your father advocated war. He never saw your vision of a united people. There’s more than war and fighting, there’s culture, progress, reclaiming the glory of your ancestors.”

“They took that future away. Promised planets and colonies. They betrayed us. The Council refuses to hear us in their sessions. Now the genophage? They must learn that the krogan will not be broken. Arcturus was too much destruction, but the war is right. We’ve been preparing a long time.”

Shepard’s skin chilled. Wrex’s flinty red eyes stared straight into the camera. This wasn’t her galaxy. She had to remind herself of it. The stakes weren’t more consequential than securing Kaidan a better victory than restoring the relay. 

“What if the Council recognizes the krogan can’t be broken and makes amends? Would that stop this war? You know, the Council will take the Alliance’s side and this will spiral. The galaxy gets torn apart, then the krogan get torn apart with it.”

“We will never submit to the genophage.”

“What if they prevent themselves from ever trying again? It can be made a galactic war crime.”

Wrex snorted and paced against the chalky cement wall. “This, they said at the Summit. A long time ago. It went nowhere.”

Shepard could still feel the blaze of stage lights on her skin in the chamber HQ built for the Council Summit on Earth. The floor boards had creaked under her feet while she stood at the lectern between Tevos and Ilk. The Sol mass relay had been repaired from wartime damage, and soon all the aliens would be returning home. It was the last meeting before everyone dispersed, when it would be harder to make decisions spread apart. As Human Councilor Alternate, she had listened to the audience swell with boos and arguments while she championed an initiative to make sterilization of a species a war crime. It hadn’t gone through. 

It was years later, during her first year in office as the appointed Human Councilor that she passed the initiative successfully. But that was her timeline. Here, none of that had happened. Yet. It was still possible to get passed, especially with the Council facing krogan warfare on a galactic level.

“I can talk to the Council. Persuade them,” Shepard said.

“That won’t stop this.”

“What if they agree to give you territory, planets, and foster your colonization efforts?”

“A surrender?” Wrex kept talking over her protest. “We keep our dreadnaughts. No limits. No restrictions. We want reparations: weapons, warheads, ships, tributary payments for one hundred years.”

“One hundred years?” Shepard slapped the desk and almost laughed. Maybe one hundred years was nothing to a one thousand year old krogan, but it wasn’t nothing to a salarian, turian, or human. One hundred years! “You want war reparations, Wrex! We haven’t even had a proper war. You’re being unreasonable for the sake of being unreasonable. You really want this?”

“And they must recognize it as your conditional surrender.”

“Dammit, Wrex. You’re being unreasonable. Where’s Bakara? I’ll talk to her. Where is she?”

Wrex’s smile died. “Dead. You know this.”

“Dead?” The word caught in her throat. “How? When?”

A grim chuckle rolled from Wrex’s chest. “Krogan mean so much to you, Shepard? But you can’t even remember Bakara?”

“I--I’ve had problems lately. Can’t remember things.” She wasn’t sure where the point admitting of something like that would make her look weak. Looking weak in front of a krogan lost a negotiator sway. “Look. I’m completely fine, but I can’t remember what happened to Bakara right now.”

“Wreav killed her. Five years ago.”

Wreav. Of course. After surviving the reaper attack on Tuchanka, Wreav was imprisoned for undermining Wrex’s order. Bakara had imprisoned him. Nothing is more demeaning for a krogan than being imprisoned for life. He wasn’t even worth execution. 

In Shepard’s timeline, his supporters eventually overran the prison. He escaped. Bakara was ambassador at the time, and Wreav tracked her to the Citadel. The assination didn’t go as planned. A bullet ended up in his chest, not Bakara’s. It was the first time Shepard fired a gun in two years. That was five years ago. In this timeline, there was never a krogan ambassador to the Council. And, apparently, no one had been there to put a bullet in Wreav’s chest when he found Bakara.

“I’m sorry, Wrex. The krogan are really supporting him? Wreav?”

“You know how it’s been. Infighting for years. Clan against clan, blood on the rocks, even younglings and women dead. Nuclear attacks. Been that way for years since the Council betrayed us. They would deny it, but I know the truth: your Council fed our civil war. Gave weapons to all sides, seeded rumors, paid krogan insiders to divide unity. 

Now Wreav leads them. Leads this push for war. They blame me for our failure. For the Council turning against us. This war has stopped the fighting on Tuchanka. The krogan have finally become one. The explosives are not for us now. They’re for you. We can turn our guns together toward the true enemy. It’s united us, something I could not do. I did not want war, but maybe it is right.”

“You’re wrong. Focusing on expansion and colonization efforts, supporting culture and economy -- that can unite them too. Wrex, listen to me. If the krogan blame you, then work out a reasonable -- _reasonable_ ,” she pointed at him and emphasized the word, “reasonable deal with the Council. I’ll moderate it. I can get you what you really need. They’ll listen to me.”

“They don’t listen to you, Shepard. No one told you about the Contender. You had to steal information to pass to me.”

“That information wasn’t known by anyone below the level of fleet admiral or councilor.” Shepard stood and leaned over the monitor. “Wrex, you want to get your good name back and to have clout again with your people, with the galaxy, then broker a deal with me. Something you can bring back to the krogan, and they’ll accept. We can do it over comm. Right now even. There are other ways to unite the krogan than just dying together.”

Wrex’s lips retracted, eye glinting. “Or you die.”

“Will you meet with the Council?”

“Not on comm. Tuchanka wants war. This would be seen as betrayal.”

“But you’re willing? Wrex, please. It’s nothing more than listening. You might like what you hear.”

Wrex glanced behind at the empty buildings: charred walls, caved in roofs, twisted metal and grimy rock. An oily black trail of smoke darkened the sky in the distance. Shepard had spoken with Wrex enough over the last ten years to know what made him happy. It was being surrounded by krogan prosperity, watching krogan young spar, and making his people’s voice heard in the galaxy. He was too old and tired, he’d say, to ever go back to filling contracts for crime lords in the Transverse. He didn’t miss the fighting like he thought he would.

“When?” Wrex said.

“On comm, now or tomorrow. Mask your transmission from Tuchanka and find some place private.”

“Then the answer is no.”

Shepard gritted her teeth. “Come on, Wrex!”

“In person or nothing, Shepard.”

“And how do you propose that happens?”

“Neutral ground. You decide.”

Shepard clenched her jaw tighter. They were already in Tuchanka space. In a few more days, she’d shattered the Shard and use Miranda’s Omni-Tool hardware to transport herself home. There wasn’t any time to parlay. They were oncourse, and she couldn’t waste time after shattering the Shard to hold the meeting then. The particles needed to be concentrated and radiating a strong biotic signal from her skin. Risking her way home wasn’t an option, but she needed this victory for Kaidan to ease the departure.

“Okay, Wrex.” Shepard glanced at the locked cabin door behind her and leaned in closer to the screen. “I’m going to tell you something. If your kinsmen find about you meeting with us, they’ll kill you, right? I’m keeping your confidence. You have to keep mine.”

Wrex’s eyes narrowed, but he stepped closer to the screen himself. If the screen wasn’t separating them, they’d almost be nose to nose. She could practically smell the mix of musky sweat, gunoil, and smoke off him.

“Listen. We’re -- the Normandy and me -- We’re entering Tuchanka space.”

Wrex’s eyes flashed. Shepard rushed on before he could say anything.

“It’s nothing against your people, Wrex. It’s the dormant relay off Murkatox, that ice chunk. I know your people know about it, or at least as a clan chief, you’re aware of it.”

“You! How do you know about it.”

“I just do. Don’t ask. We need the Mass Effect Shard to fix the Sol relay. Its Shard is fractured. Might break on your passage back into Sol.”

“You steal from the krogan?”

“Not steal. It’s not your relay. It’s not even active.”

Wrex’s eyes burned, small red balls. “It’s in our system. You’re destroying it.”

“Don’t be petty. I’m not destroying it. It’s already inactive, not being used. Most likely you’ll never activate. It’s against Council law, if you still cared about that. The krogan know the danger better than anyone about activating a relay. You fought the rachni.”

“The rachni made the krogan strong. For once, the galaxy saw our value.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “Off topic. You don’t need the damned Shard. We do. It’s not hurting anything by taking it.”

Wrex crossed his arms. “You need krogan permission. It’s in our system. It’s a secret held and passed clan leader to clan leader for millenia. Only fourteen years ago did I learn of the inactive relays.”

“Relays plural?”

Wrex flinched, an amusing sight on a krogan.

“See. There,” Shepard said. “You have more than one. You have a preference which one we take, then you can tell me about the other.”

“The other is myth. No clan remembers it.” Wrex’s lips curled back from his teeth like a growling dog. “This will be part of the deal we make. Reparations for the Shard will be made by the Alliance to the krogan.”

“Good. Keep thinking that way: a deal.”

Wrex’s eyes were hard.

“Now, I’m not telling you about the Shard just to gain your confidence. I’m in your system or soon will be. You want a face to face? Is it enough to meet with me? The Councilors are scattered. They can’t be here in person.”

“Only you? Fine. The Council uses your comms to speak with us. Not using mine. It could be discovered on my ‘Tool or the ship’s transmitter.”

“All right.” Shepard pushed away from the desk. “A rendezvous then. Where?”

“The moon off Kurich. Not inhabited. There’s shelter to meet. I have some in my clan I can trust to be with me. We will meet there. The Tosha Caves. Three days.”

“Three days? It needs to be sooner. We’ll almost be at the relay by then.”

“Get your Shard then. Come to the caves after.”

“No, no, no. Not after.”

Wrex frowned at her.

“It has to be before,” Shepard said. “Three days then. Fine. We’ll be there.”

“Better be a good deal, Shepard. I trust my men. They’ll keep your secret. But this is dangerous for both of us.”

“You’re making the right choice, Wrex. We can solve this.”

“We can see. Tosha Caves. Three days.”

The screen went black. Shepard fell into her chair and looked back at the locked door. This required the Normandy to divert course. She’d have to tell Kaidan. Dammit. She had wanted to do it all by comm. She could have talked to Wrex and the Council from inside her cabin unknown to anyone else. She would have emphasized Kaidan was involved in the background of planning. Maybe she’d even say he convinced her to moderate. Then she could hand it over to Kaidan with a nice bow later, the start to a peace treaty everyone believed he helped broker. He only needed to finalize it at that point. She could shatter the Shard knowing he was all right. Now though . . . There was no way around not telling him upfront. He was going to be furious. Perhaps even refuse to help.

***

Shepard lingered outside the XO’s cabin. The gunmetal door in front of her face wasn’t going to move unless she pushed the call button. She could hear his voice on the other side. Each minute she hesitated, her body grew stiffer. The weight grew in her chest. Her feet sandbagged to the floor. The mess hall was empty. She almost wished someone was around to look funny at her for hovering so long by the door. It would spur her to just do it. She pushed the button.

It took a moment. The door slid open. Though Kaidan’s eyebrows lifted at seeing her, he didn’t look put out. He waved her inside, not saying anything, and then walked into the center of the room. There were vid screens on the wall. One of them was obviously a live feed. Shepard hedged along the wall to keep out of sight. 

The XO’s cabin was a sterile space. The only furniture was a metal-framed bed in the back with the sheets and covers torn off. A small duffle bag peeking out from under the boxsprings. An impressive comm system decorated the wall with curling cords, blinking transmitters, and holoscreens. The screens were blank, except for titles in the center reading “quadrant one,” “delta battalion,” or something similar. Datapads glowed on the floor, arranged in an esoteric arrangement along the wall. 

He needed a desk, or in the least, a chair. Where the hell did he sit? He spent a lot of time in here. The idea cut at her: the vision of him pacing endlessly in this open metal space, dark except for the window’s starlight and the black gleam of offline monitors on the wall. She could see him sitting on the cold sheet metal floor, eyes unfocused, elbows on his knees, listening to the on and off hum of the life support system.

“Continue,” Kaidan said to the screen.

His uniform looked crumpled. Perhaps he had slept in it.

The woman on the screen was the same person she’d seen on the comm at HQ. Her french twist still strained the skin at her temples. Her already-chalky skin was even whiter in the bright overhead lighting of some conference room. She sat at a desk, dignified, with ram-rodded posture and a severe expression.

“This isn’t pirate activity, sir. There isn’t a sign of slavers, smugglers, or any of the organized crime rings known to the area. There are only quarian and Alliance vessels in this section of the quadrant.”

“We know there have been increased raids on Prothean artifacts in the quadrant,” Kaidan said tiredly. “That last smuggler’s raid destroyed the entire temple on Pavlos. Completely gutted it. We already know there’s criminal activity nearby.”

“Investigations on those raids haven’t indicated any smuggler groups we know of. We found artefacts left undisturbed, and there hasn’t been a flood of Prothean items into the blackmarket. Regardless of that activity, Admiral, there haven’t been any ships or suspicious third party activity within light years of where the quarian vessel went down.”

“You’ve recovered the flight recorder box?”

“They don’t call it that, but yes. It’s been recovered.” The woman shifted in her seat and focused on her folded hands.

“And?” Kaidan prompted.

“Let me repeat, sir: Slaver, smuggler, and piracy activity can’t be corroborated.”

Kaidan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Catastrophic system failure of some kind? One quarian vessel with an imploding reactor could consume the others in its debris field.”

“We don’t think so.”

Kaidan paced in thought with a crease growing between his eyes. “All right.” Kaidan pivoted to face the vid screen. “Deliver the flight recorders back to the quarians. Their engineers may find something in the surveillance readings that ours missed. It’s their technology after all.”

“Sir.” The woman’s eyes lasered into the camera. “Multiple third party civilian ships, transports and mining vessels, have also disappeared entering the Far Rim. Perhaps as the Alliance’s Terminus System Containment and Monitoring program, we should keep these boxes in evidence.”

“Evidence of what? The only significant criminal activity in the quadrant are raids on the Protheans ruins. If we don’t believe them to be connected and there hasn’t been any suspicious third party activity in proximity to the Far Rim . . .”

“Correct,” the woman said slowly.

“So, return the flight recorders to the quarians. Even if it’s in purview of the Terminus System, we don’t own the area. They deserve to investigate what happened to their cargo ships, and especially, what happened to that passenger transport.”

“Sir. The only activity in the area is quarian and . . . Alliance.” The woman gave a pointed look.

Kaidan’s posture straightened. 

“Sir, the particle size we’re finding in the wreckage debris and the trace energy signatures . . . Thallanex Kybercom Cannon fire. Possibly greater.”

Kaidan glanced sideways at Shepard. He studied her a moment with a frown, then turned back to the screen. He stepped forward. “Send me your information. The flight recorders remain in your possession until I’ve had a chance to consider it.”

“If the quarians ask?”

“Direct them to me.”

The screen went dark. Kaidan stared at the holoscreen with his back to Shepard. Silence stretching the passing seconds. Finally, he turned. His forehead was indented with a deep line down the center.

“Thallanex Kybercom,” Shepard said. “That’s a heavy hitter. Not a lot of mercs can afford a ship of that size and quality.”

Kaidan’s eyes sharpened on her. “I shouldn’t have had you in here for that.”

“It’s already forgotten.” Shepard stood away from the wall. “I have something to tell you.”

“Figured you weren’t here for tea.”

Shepard’s lips curved into a smile. Despite the joke, Kaidan gazed back with a numb blankness and waited. 

“All right, Fleet Admiral.” The speech she’d written in her head died on her tongue. His eyes were so cold. She cleared her throat. “So, uh. Oh, hell. I really don’t want to tell you this. Just keep an open mind, all right?”

“Why?” Kaidan said with an edge and crossed his arms.

“I, uh . . . Dammit. I’ll just say it. I contacted Wrex.”

Kaidan stared at her as if not really understanding.

“Just now,” Shepard clarified. “Up in my cabin.”

That got a response. Kaidan dropped his arms, face hardening, and closed the distance between them.

“Just listen to me first,” Shepard said quickly. “I want to fix things with the krogan. You know Wrex doesn’t want it this way either.”

“He’s the enemy,” Kaidan said through his teeth in a low voice.

“He’s not the enemy. He only attacked the Contender, because it carried the genophage. He wasn’t involved with--”

“Fifty-two, Shepard. Fifty-two crew members were on the Contender. How many of them even knew what they were carrying? They were just doing their job. Fifty-two families lost someone they loved. And why? Because you didn’t think there was another way.”

“How many are going to die in this war? I’m done talking about the Contender. That’s past. We have a chance to end this war before it really starts.”

“Tell that to the thousands who died in Arcturus. Bet they wouldn’t think the war hasn’t really started.”

“Stop picking apart the wording. You know what I mean. We can end the war right here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s a rendezvous arranged on a moon off Kurich.”

“Kurich? That’s near Tuchanka. Shepard! He knows we’re here, inside Krogan space?”

“He won’t tell anyone.”

“You know that for certain? You’re hoping, trust, but you don’t know.” His hands clenched into fists. Veins popped out from the muscles of his arms. “How did I not know a transmission went out to Tuchanka?”

“If we rendezvous with Wrex, I can speak to the Council. We can work a deal between them.”

“Joker,” Kaidan hissed. “The static offload. He masked it for you.”

“Listen. If we--”

“No, you listen.” Kaidan jabbed a finger in her face. “You undermined my authority with the crew.”

“Just Joker.”

“Joker’s crew.”

“If you’d stop getting stuck in details that don’t matter, you could see the bigger picture of what’s here to accomplish.”

“Details matter! Fifty-two, Shepard. But I guess that’s just a detail.”

“Three days from now on the moon off Kurich, the Tosha Caves, Wrex will be there. We need to arrange a time with the Councilors for them to talk to Wrex by comm.”

“It could be a trap.”

“It’s Wrex.”

Kaidan’s jaw flexed, and he edged closer. Shepard took a step backward. Her back hit the wall. Kaidan stopped sharply. He looked between them as if just realizing he’d backed her into a corner. Breath escaped his lips, and he backed away from her.

“Alenko . . .”

“You’ve compromised the mission,” he said and turned his back to her. He waved vaguely behind him. “Just go.”

“Kaidan.”

“Stop.” He turned back sharply. “You’re not Alliance, so I won’t call you insubordinate, but you’re intentionally undermining me. I asked if I could trust you. Then you go and do this? Twenty-eight, Shepard. Twenty-eight souls on board the Normandy. You just put every one of them at risk. Now, go.”

Shepard stormed from his room. She was happy to hear the door seal close behind her. Everyone in this wretched timeline seemed bent on keeping it wretched. Fine. The ball was in his court. She’d shatter the Shard regardless of whether he accepted a consolation victory. 


	9. Tosha Caves

**CHAPTER 9: Tosha Caves**

Shepard set her mug unsteadily on the mess hall table. The coffee sloshed over her fingers. She cursed. Her hands had been shaking since she got off the elevator. She’d noticed it before when passing through the Sol relay and then again through the relay into Tuchanka space. She wasn’t going through a relay this time, but her hands were still shaky. She stretched her fingers. Joker hobbled around the corner coming from the elevators.

“Hey, Joker.”

He gave her a pointedly flat look and continued to the kitchen. Some junior officers at the table behind her kept sending comments and questions her directions. They wanted to know what she thought of ANN’s war commentary. They said the Alliance had screwed itself now getting rid of her. She was going to kick more ass serving the Council anyway. They asked how Commander Tautum was doing. What would happen with the slaver problem in the Transverse now her mission had dropped? Any chance the Alliance might reinstate her? 

While it was a nice change from being alone in her room, it was starting to grate on her. Fortunately, day shift was starting. The junior officers gathered their wrappers and gave her a salute on their way out. Joker dropped his tray on the table in front of her. The spoon clinged against the rim of his bowl. 

Joker slumped into his seat. “When someone does you a secret favor, I dunno, ever think about ever not telling the CO about it?” 

“Kaidan came down hard on you?”

“Thought he was going to yank me up by the collar and sling me out the airlock.”

“I’d probably be dangling by the collar in his other hand. I’d go spinning out into space right behind you.” 

Alchera flashed in her vision for a second. Her skin went cold. It was still there. Always there. 

“For real.” Joker leaned in closer. “He wrote me up. Got a reprimand in my record now.”

“I’ve seen your record, Joker. Unless this one’s written in neon, I doubt it’ll stand out.”

“Uh, gee, thanks. I haven’t gotten a reprimand in a long time, you know.”

“I imagine. You’ve worked for me for over ten years.” Shepard shook a bag of creamer between her fingertips and stirred the contents into the coffee.

“Your hands are all shaky. You really worried about Kaidan being mad?”

“No.” Shepard brushed away the creamer that missed the mug. “I don’t know why I’m shaky. Maybe I need to eat something.”

“Yeah. Might want to use a straw. Your mug’s full. Do not see that going well.”

Shepard hunched over, lowering her mouth to the rim, and slurped.

“Gross.” Joker moved the cereal around his bowl with a spoon. “They really let you sit in front at the Alliance banquets?”

“This is better than spilling on myself.”

“I suggested a straw.”

The XO’s cabin door hissed open. Kaidan strode out, uniform pressed this time, hair slightly wet, and face colder than ever. The smell of shower and soap tinted the air when he came up to the table. Blood beaded on a cut in the shadow under his jaw. 

Shepard’s fingers tightened on her mug. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t dab it away with her fingertips and inhaled his aftershave point-blank. She couldn’t straighten the shoulders of his uniform for no other purpose than smiling into his face as she did it. She could imagine it though. His hand would catch her by the back of the head. Smiling, he’d pull her face to his lips.

“Do you have a more specific time than just ‘in three days’?” He folded his arms and looked down at her.

Shepard tried not to smile too broadly. He was considering the meeting then. 

“I suppose, when another ship hits orbit, it’s a good sign the meeting is a hand.”

Kaidan gaze hardened. It was the same stern look he gave Avyn when he thought she was sassing him.

“You like specific time frames, huh, sir?” Joker dropped his spoon and twisted to look at Kaidan. “When am I coming off suspension? Been twelve hours all ready.”

“If we had two copilots, you’d be suspended the whole flight.”

Joker ripped back around in his seat and rested a glare on Shepard. Milk dribbled from his spoon as he shoved it into his mouth with a metallic click. Kaidan leaned over the end of the table on one palm.

“This.” He motioned between them. “You continue following Shepard’s orders instead of mine, Lieutenant, you’re not going to be explaining it to me. You’ll be explaining it to a disciplinary panel.”

Joker’s teeth clenched down on the spoon. He stared straight ahead.

“Is that clear?” Kaidan turned to Shepard. “And, you. I’ll throw a couple of MREs in your cabin, and you can strike ‘crew deck’ off your list.”

“A reasonable consequence.” Shepard bobbed her head. “Understood.”

Kaidan gave them each a long look then turned away.

“So, I take it we _ are  _ going to Kurich?” Shepard asked before he could leave. “You decided to do it?”

“The damage is already done, isn’t it?”

“We’ll need to arrange it with the Council. Have you told the Alliance about it?”

“I haven’t decided.” He left without any elaboration.

Joker plopped his spoon down in the cornflakes and stood. “Lost my appetite.”

“Not a hard thing to find again.” Shepard stood as well. “Hey. I’m sorry I got you tied up in that. It wasn’t my intention for anyone to find out.”

“I’m not doing it again for you. You know that, right?”

“Once is enough. Kaidan’s right though. You should listen to him, not me.”

“Got that part.”

He shuffled to the kitchen, tray clutched to his side, spoon handle rolling around the rim of the bowl. Shepard reached for her mug. Her fingers quivered on the handle unable to close onto it solidly. She left it on the table.

*** 

Shepard paced around her cabin. An unsent email she’d written brightened the desk monitor. She had drafted a message to the Councilors detailing the meeting with Wrex and making her recommendations. It was probably too presumptive coming from a Spectre. She wasn’t the Councilor anymore, but she had never been afraid to overstep when sharing her opinion. 

The “send” button burned in the corner of her vision. If they were going to Kurich, Kaidan knew the next step was contacting the Council. Sending the email might be more than overstepping the Council’s boundaries. It might be seen as overstepping him. She turned off the monitor.

She checked the navigation map on her Omni-Tool. The ship needed to change course right now if it was going to reach Kurich in time. They were deep enough into krogan space, FTL was turned off. They were using the stealth drive. They weren’t flying at FTL to overshoot the turn too quickly, but every minute took them further the wrong direction. It had been hours since she talked to Kaidan. He’d left her with the impression he would redirect to Kurich.

A female voice came overhead. “Spectre Shepard?”

Shepard pushed a button on her desk computer. “Yes?”

“The Admiral would like to see you in the QEC.”

The QEC was outside her allowable territory. The CIC probably had the largest flashing “Do Not Trespass” sign of any area.

Shepard pushed the button again. “I have the Admiral’s permission to enter that area of the ship.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. On my way.”

***

The wide eyes of the crew followed her as she crossed the CIC. Apparently, her trespassing boundaries were well known. There were a few pressed smiles and salutes that felt timid and wary. But the general feel was a respectful warmth, despite the nervousness in wondering if they should interfere with her entry. Though she didn’t remember any of them, they were her crew after all. She smiled and saluted back.

The war room was dark and empty when she came through the door. Across the room, a hologram shimmered inside the quantum entanglement communicator. Kaidan was on the platform and turned when she entered. 

The hologram was Councilor Wilson in a tuxedo and scowl, holding a corked wine bottle under his arm, and tapping a wing-tipped dress shoe on the floor. “Any day now, Alenko. Despite what you believe, Spectres work for the Council, not the other way around. And the krogan? This impulsiveness and disregard for authority you have has always been--”

“It’s  _ my _ impulsiveness and disregard for authority, sir.” Shepard stepped onto the platform beside Kaidan. 

“Spectre Shepard. Finally.” The razor in Wilson’s eyes dulled when he turned to her. He never had liked Kaidan. In this timeline, Kaidan had worked with him on her behalf several times, but it didn’t appear there was much more affinity between them than in her own timeline. “Spectre Shepard, this matter should have been discussed and decided on by the Council before approaching a krogan warlord about a meeting.”

“Urdnot Wrex is not a warlord. The Council’s on an extended vacation, and the opportunity is now.”

“Urdnot Wrex should come to a Councilor’s office to discuss this with us. It doesn’t bother you you’re in krogan space and they’re now aware of it? They know where you are.” Before Shepard could answer, Wilson whipped his attention back to Kaidan. “You, Alenko, you’re in command! Risking everyone in Sol. Your meddling could explode the krogan situation, and you’ll have wasted a chance to restore the relay. I’m not an Alliance admiral anymore, Alenko. You may be high and mighty in Parliament, but you deserve a reality check.”

Kaidan’s eyes sharpened into the hologram, but he said nothing.

“I said it before, Councilor.” Shepard moved in front of Kaidan and into Wilson’s glare. “Spectre Alenko isn’t responsible for this. I am.”

“That’s not how it sounded.” Wilson untucked the wine bottle from under his arm and slammed it down on some surface out of sight. “This true, Alenko?”

Kaidan brushed Shepard aside with the back of his hand. “Will the Council meet with Urdnot Wrex or not? Decisions need to be made now, if I’m to divert course.”

“You’re getting Parliament’s blessing on this meeting too?”

“Will you meet with Urdnot Wrex by comm?” Kaidan repeated. 

Wilson looked between Kaidan and Shepard with a hard expression. “Good luck getting a hold of Ilk. Even if I agreed, the other Councilors may not.”

“Just opening up talks is enough,” Shepard said. “One step’s better than none.”

Wilson crossed his arms. “If this talk goes poorly, it could accelerate a confrontation between the Council races and the krogan. It could accelerate another krogan attack on Alliance forces. The Sol System is close to breaking. The Sol relay goes down, it will be years before we’re connected again. The krogan could have decimated galactic forces by then and destroyed the Alliance fleets outside Sol. The Alliance is the Council’s greatest ally in defeating the krogan. We can’t be divided and right now we are. If the krogan know you’re in their system, they’ll destroy you. They did it to the Contender already.”

“Then you’ll meet with Urdnot Wrex?” Shepard clarified.

“Since you’ve already put everything at risk, I suppose I’m forced to.” Wilson frowned pointedly at Kaidan. “I suppose I’m also to keep this quiet from the Alliance? You sidestepped my question about them. You realize, once they discover you’re actually chasing your own glory instead of saving Sol, I can only imagine how that will look, especially if it doesn’t go well.”

Shepard shook her head. “Councilor, that’s not what--”

“If you’ll meet with Urdnot Wrex, then that’s all we need.” Kaidan stepped to the QEC controls. “I’ll send a time and make arrangements with the other Councillors.”

“For now, I agree. And I’ll keep your secret.”

Kaidan powered off the QEC. Wilson’s image faded away. 

“Alenko, you need to tell him you didn’t arrange this.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kaidan faced her. “This wasn’t a season pass through the CIC, by the way.”

“I will write the Councilors. I’ll message the Alliance, too, when it’s time. I put you in the same position as you’re putting all of them. They need to know that.”

“I will talk to them. You do nothing. Your Spectre status is hanging by a thread.”

Shepard’s senses sharpened on him. “That’s why you’re sharing the blame on this?”

Kaidan folded his arms and nodded past her at the war room. “You can return to the crew deck or your cabin.”

Shepard ground her teeth but forced a smile. Kaidan had a way of igniting something fierce inside her with his casual dismissiveness. One moment she was being saved from prison by him, the next she was being brushed off with impersonal contempt.

“Fine,” she said icly. “Off I go then. You know where to find me.”

She passed through the CIC and slapped the button for the elevator. Her plan to give Kaidan a consolation victory was backfiring. Wrex was more bullheaded than she expected. The Council was bound to act superior to him. It would be a battle of self-interest and power displays. She’d oversimplified this timeline’s politics because it wasn’t real, but it was as complicated as her real life in politics. 

If this went wrong, it was one more thing Kaidan could get blamed for. This meeting could dig Kaidan into a deeper hole than just losing the Shard. Shepard shuffled into her cabin and sat in the dark. All she could do was wait and see.

***

Kaidan forwarded Shepard his messages to the Councilors. She sat at the desk waiting for time to pass until they reached the moon. Her terminal lit up with a call. She pressed the button before she had a chance to check the caller’s name.

“Shepard. Surprised you picked up.” Cicero was in uniform. He was silhouetted in the sunlight from a window.

“Admiral Cicero.” Shepard steepled her hands on the desk. “I’m not Alliance anymore. I hope this isn’t a personal call.”

“How’s your honeymoon with Alenko?” Cicero leaned back casually in his chair. “The Alliance-funded cruise around Tuchanka everything you dreamed?”

“Already have the Shard and on our way home.”

“To make that sort of time, you’d need to be at FTL. Shame to get shot from the sky. And just when Alenko decided you’re worth the quarter in a slot to ride.”

Shepard reached for the power button.

“I know you’re off course,” he said.

Shepard paused. “We’re just behind schedule.”

“Alenko’s being shifty. He’s not detailing your location in his reports. The flight plan would have you arriving at the relay tomorrow.”

“It’s not tomorrow yet. How do you know we’re off schedule?” Shepard mirrored him and relaxed back on her chair like it was a casual fireside chat.

“You can do something for me. You still access navigation records locally on the ship’s terminals. The Normandy wasn’t wiped of your command credentials.” 

“Why not?”

“Ask Alenko. It was meant to happen, but it got postponed when the ship was commandeered for this mission. Your credentials should still work.”

Shepard swiveled in her chair and gave Cicero a tired look. “And why the hell would I get navigation records for you? I assume that’s where this is going.”

“You want the knife to your neck? Very well. Tautum.”

Shepard stopped swiveling. “What about him?”

“I know you like the boy. Apparently, you’d sooner go to prison than see him maligned. He may not have given the Contender’s information to the krogan, but I know what he has done for you. Many questionable things, like all your crew has.” 

Cicero opened his desk drawer and pulled out an optical storage device, silver and thumb-nail sized. “I lifted files off your personal computer. Oh, don’t look so surprised. You lifted mine too. I thought you might have given up trying, then our last night together I found your drive. This, though? Interesting how it was so neatly packaged, all this evidence against you, your crew, Tautum. One file on your computer that had so much. It’s a little outdated, true, but there’s enough here to do quite a bit of damage I think.”

“You’re blackmailing me with Tautum’s career?”

Cicero went silent. Perhaps he suspected she could be recording him now. 

“How about this instead?” Shepard hunched forward. “Alliance Parliament finds out we’ve been sleeping together. In light of you heading my trial, I think that might affect  _ your  _ career. Might help stamp your visa papers out of Sol and into a mobile fleet position.”

Cicero’s eyes flashed, but he gave a cool smile. Again, he said nothing.

“I have nothing to lose,” Shepard said. “I’m already dishonorably discharged. It’s nothing the Council would care about in relation to a Spectre.”

“Do you realize how that would paint you in the media? Any shred of respect you may have left with the public will be lost. You want to be seen as the great Commander Shepard you once were? You want to be seen as a Spectre, taken seriously and respected?” Cicero stood and leaned on his palms to look into the screen. “The galaxy finds out you traded sex for trial votes, you’ll be a woman. A whore. No one will respect you again.”

Shepard shrugged. “I actually couldn’t care less. Trust me, my future reputation is the furthest thing from my mind. You go down with me, it’ll be worth it.”

“Perhaps you--”

Shepard slapped the OFF button on the comm. Cicero’s face flickered away. All she could do was hope her threat was enough to keep Cicero from bringing down Tautum. But, at the end of the day, if Tautum did illegal things, then having consequences was a natural sequitur. What he was accused of during the trial was untrue. She’d spared him that outcome. For the rest of it, he was on his own. 

***

Shepard stood in the cargo bay and touched the N7 on her breast plate. It had been years since feeling the weight of armor on her shoulders. It had been even longer since she could look down to see a N7 on her breast. She checked her utility belt. Ha! The long blue cord. She still had it. That had saved her more than once. She unfolded her pistol, counted her thermal clips, shoved energy bars into the belt’s free pocket.

Across the cargo bay, a random crew member slouched against the wall watching her. Maybe he was her babysitter while she was in this part of the ship. The shuttle pilot, a woman who treated Shepard warmly, busied herself in the pilot’s seat running diagnostics and checking the dash display. 

Shepard paced beside the shuttle. She checked her pistol again and tasted the first hint of adrenaline in her blood. They were only going to a meeting with Wrex. There wouldn’t be any fighting, but this was the closest she had felt to being the old Commander Shepard in years. The cargo bay’s elevator door opened.

A beak-nosed officer stood at the bank of consoles near the elevator. He turned toward the opening doors. “Sir, I have that report.”

Kaidan wore full armor, helmet tucked her his arm, and stopped at the console. His eyes were fixed on Shepard.

“You have the holoprojector comm discs?” he asked loudly enough it was apparent he was talking to her.

“Only three, since Ilk hasn’t responded.” She came closer.

The officer at the console offered Kaidan a datapad. “Sir, the transmission report for sign off.”

Kaidan took it absently and moved to the armory. He ducked inside, for what, Shepard couldn’t see, until he emerged with a heavy pistol and some clips. He crossed to the shuttle. The beak-nosed officer trotted behind him, eyes on the datapad dangling from Kaidan’s fingers.

“It’s just us?” Shepard asked.

“A reason we need more?”

The shuttle pilot stood in the shuttle’s open doorway. “I have the coordinates where the shuttle from the krogan vessel landed near the caves. Do you want me to set you down right on top of it, sir?”

Kaidan chewed his lip for a moment and glanced at Shepard.

“It’s Wrex,” Shepard said. “He’s only bringing trusted clan members. We’ll be safe.”

“Fine.” Kaidan nodded at the pilot. “Any more information on this moon?”

The beak-nosed officer at Kaidan’s elbow was the one to answer. “It’s krogan space, sir. What we know is only what we can see from orbit.”

“No reason to land somewhere else then and risk losing our way,” Kaidan said.

The pilot moved to her seat. Shepard hopped into the shuttle and took a seat against the back wall.

“Sir, the report,” the officer said.

Kaidan skimmed the datapad, moving to the shuttle’s hatch. He put a hand on the side of the door to leverage himself up. He stopped midstep. His hand dropped away from the shuttle, and a crease deepened between his eyebrows. He glanced up from the datapad, and his eyes sharpened on Shepard.

“This is the last twenty-four hours?” Kaidan asked the officer.

“Yes, sir.”

Kaidan thrust the datapad back at him and strode back across the cargo bay to the armory.

“Did you sign them off, Admiral?” Beak-Nose jogged after him.

Kaidan took the datapad, punched something in quick, and then ducked into the armory. The officer checked the datapad, and satisfied, returned to the console. When Kaidan returned to the shuttle, he had a Abolisher V assault rifle in his arms.

“Trouble?” Shepard frowned.

“You tell me.” Kaidan slammed the shuttle door shut behind him. 

“Tell you what?” Shepard sat up higher in her seat. 

He gripped the overhead handle and didn’t answer. Her pistol was rubbing between the wall and her hip, and she adjusted it as the shuttle lifted beneath them. Kaidan eyed her gun. For a moment, it looked like he might put out his palm and demand it from her. Instead, he just stared at it, hand tightening on the handle of his rifle, and a hard set tightening his jaw. The way he looked at her pistol was bad enough, but how he looked at her when their eyes connected was worse.

“Alenko,” Shepard stood and gripped the handle in front of him. “What’s going on?”

Flint reflected back in his eyes. He held her gaze, letting the silence stretch, then backed away. He stood over the pilot. The white globe of Kurich’s moon expanded in the window before them. A giant snowball. Which is exactly what it turned out to be.

*** 

They threw open the shuttle door. Ice blasted into their faces and slid their armored boots backward on the shuttle’s metal floor. Kaidan ducked his face under a shielding arm and pushed forward. He dropped off the edge of the shuttle and waited for Shepard. A gust of snow crystals made Shepard stumble sideways. She swore but made it to the ground beside him.

The shuttle rocked violently against the wind. Metal creaked with the sound of cracking ice. Kaidan signaled the shuttle pilot. The roar of the wind was too loud to hear anything over comm. The shuttle scrapped across the ice as it lifted. The wind skipped it sideways across the snow until the shuttle’s engines powered up to full throttle. It shot away with metal groaning and popping over the sound of the storm.

The shuttle disappeared into the white blur above them. Shepard’s boots skid sideways against the ice, and Kaidan grabbed her elbow. He ground his boots into the icy snow as if trying to find traction in the roar of wind. The glass in his helmet crystalized around the edges. His breath was visible inside the helmet when he looked at her.

The Tosha Caves’ massive ice walls towered in the distance. The plane around them was flat, white, and looked endless with the blizzard. Shepard locked her hand on Kaidan’s forearm. They struggled forward, hunched into the wind, breath clouding their visor. Kaidan’s fingers dug into the armor on her forearm anchoring her, while with the other hand he clutched the rifle to his chest.

Nearing the ice cliffs only made the wind stronger. Shepard’s feet slipped out beneath her. She fought with her boots to catch the ground again, but a gust hit her. It whipped her into the air. She still had hold of Kaidan, and it tore him spinning around with her. He gritted his teeth behind the frosted plexiglass, battered and slipping in the wind.

Another gust tore her higher into the air. Her fingers slipped on his arm. She sought desperately to grasp his arm with a second hand. She couldn’t reach. His grip on her loosened with each gust of wind. Kaidan stared at her through his facial shield, eyes huge and white. The hold broke.Kaidan lunged. He grabbed her arm with both hands. The rifle flashed past Shepard’s face and sailed away in the wind and snow. 

Shepard drew on the energy deep within her core. Blue light flared over her. She met Kaidan’s eyes and pushed out with her barrier. Kaidan seemed to understand. His barrier flared to life. It raised a familiar tingle in her body as their barriers joined. Their energies threaded together like a net surrounding them and holding them together. 

Kaidan flattened himself to the ground. He reeled her in by the arm until he could grab her other wildly flailing hand. He pulled her down beside him. With a hand on her back, he pressed her flat on the icesheet below the catch of the wind. The glass in front of her face fogged from panting. She slowly caught her breath. 

Pressed sideways against the ice, they faced each other. A veil of cobalt blue energy and two sheets of glass divided their faces. Shepard nodded reassuringly. Kaidan searched her eyes as if trying to determine for himself whether she was really all right. Her gaze must have convinced him. He nodded back and motioned at the ice cliffs with his eyes.

It was slow going. The combined barrier flickered over them. They clutched each other’s hand and crawled together, flat on their belly, armor grating against the slippery, cold ground. Centimeter by centimeter. It felt like years. They’d grab blindly for the other when a gust hit them. Their feet would lift for one stomach-rolling second. Then it would drop them clattering back onto the ice. She’d never appreciated more the weight of Kaidan’s muscles, the added kilograms of height, or the fact he wore heavy armor. Her lighter female body was just a snapping flag in the wind without him as an anchor.

The cave walls glittered ahead of them, translucent ice sheets, jagged, and rising eternally into the white storm. The cave’s opening felt so far away until they finally reached it. They crawled inside, and the force that had been hammering them endlessly lifted. Shepard’s muscles fell into jelly, her spine loosening, and it took a force of will to not just lie there. Testingly, she pulled herself up onto her hands and knees. A few meters deeper into the cave, the wind died away completely, leaving her ears ringing and body shaky.

“You all right?” Kaidan’s voice on the comm made her jump. He braced a hand against the wall and stood on wobbly legs. 

“Yeah.” Shepard hesitated, trying her legs before staggering to her feet. She dropped her barrier. “Wrex must be further in.” 

The caves weren’t what she expected when hearing the word cave.  Light filtered down through the chasm of ice overhead. Under different circumstances, it might even be beautiful, like standing inside a frozen prism.

Kaidan’s barrier still shimmered over him. His hand went to his utility belt. “Dammit. My pistol.”

Shepard popped open a compartment on the side of her leg. She thumbed through the flat metal discs. “Holoprojector comms are okay.”

Kaidan nodded absently and eyed Shepard’s utility belt. Shepard checked it. Her collapsed pistol was there. It was wedged deep inside one of the pockets, and she had to wiggle it back and forth before it popped free. It had a clip, but the pocket for spare clips on her belt was empty. It was a miracle she had the gun.

“No clips. Just the one loaded,” she said unfolding the pistol.

The soft blue light of Kaidan’s barrier danced on the icy surfaces around them. Shepard looked over at him. His eyes had a hard edge and tracked the pistol in her hand.

“You want it?” She offered it.

“If something happens,” he met her eyes, “you’re on my side, right?”

“What?” Shepard dropped the gun limply to her side. “Of course. Why even ask that?”

“You told me I could trust you, then went behind my back.”

“I want to resolve this war with the krogan. What I did had nothing to do with undermining you.”

His expression was frigid, and he didn’t say anything. Shepard stormed over to him. He didn’t retreat from her or fall into a defensive stance, but his shoulders tensed and the energy flared in his barrier.

“Here.” Shepard grabbed his hand. He tried to pull away, but she slapped the pistol into his palm and curled his finger around it. She shoved his hand back at him. “There,  _ Admiral Alenko _ . Feel better now?”

Kaidan considered the pistol in his hand. He looked up at her.

“You know Cicero would like to see me KIA?”

Shepard frowned. “What? You think I’m his hired gun? I’ll take you out while we’re down here alone?”

“I don’t think that,” he said quietly.

“What then? You’re the one who didn’t bring anyone else with us.”

“No reason to endanger other soldiers. According to you, we’re only meeting friendlies.”

“Oh, ha. I see.” Shepard smiled grimly through the fogging glass of her helmet. “So, then, I’ve set up an ambush for you. I’ll just fall back or something, let them take you down? You know what? I think the reason you didn’t bring anyone else is because you want it this way.”

“What way?”

“High stakes. Trusting to the point it’s certain death if you’re wrong. Martyr yourself for believing in me. Make it a personal betrayal. Thing is, you’re so hyperaware of the risk, you’ve made yourself jumpy and paranoid.”

This time Kaidan was the one who closed the distance between them. Shepard didn’t flinch, not outwardly, at least. Kaidan grabbed her hand, slammed the pistol into it, and pushed the gun back at her. 

“Take it.”

“You might need this for the ambush up ahead.”

“There’s nothing you want to tell me?”

“Like what? Which bird call I’m using to signal the attack?”

Kaidan backed away from her. “Nothing to tell me, then fine.”

“Obviously there’s something you think I should be telling you. Why not save both of us the run around and tell  _ me  _ what I should tell  _ you. _ ”

“If you have nothing to say, you have nothing to say.”

He turned down the snow-crusted tunnel. Shepard growled under her breath, helmet making her feel claustrophobic, and charged after him.

“What did that beak-nosed officer show you?”

“Beak-nosed?” Kaidan hissed. “He’s part of your crew. You don’t even use their names? Chief Gonniere,” Kaidan said with emphasis, “is a nice person. How do you think he’d feel knowing you call him ‘beak-nosed’?” 

“Don’t deflect. What did he show you? It was some report, right? What did it say?”

“It was a transmission log. You know, for the transmissions that aren’t hidden in the static discharge.”

Shepard’s feet caught on the floor. She stopped dead. Kaidan’s steps slowed, and he turned to face her.

“Remember something?” he asked and folded his arms.

“I, uh -- Actually . . . All right, yes. I have something to tell you.” Shepard swung her arms and took two steps forward. “This information is terribly interesting, you’ll be very informed when you hear it. Admiral Cicero called me. He waved his scepter at me, threw out some weak threats, and then blipped off the screen when I cut off the line. There. You feel better now? We’re on the same page again.”

He stared at her with a tight jaw, arms crossed, and silent. For a second, she could see her own Kaidan standing like that: on guard, confused, unsure who to trust. In her world, he could always trust her. If her Kaidan was here, though, and had no one he could trust for sure? He would be like this Kaidan. He was this Kaidan.

“Kaidan.” A slow breath drained from her chest, and she closed the distance between them. He took a step back, but she caught his arm. A slight buzz pickled her palm from the barrier glowing across his armor. “Hey. Cicero wanted flight records, all right? He said I still have clearance to access them, but I told him no. Of course, I did.”

“That’s not important to share?”

“I don’t have any proof of what was said.”

“And I wouldn’t believe you without proof?”

“Anyone you tried to take it to would want proof.”

“And if it’s just being taken to me?”

“Alenko,” Shepard growled. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“No.” Kaidan said firmly and pushed Shepard’s hand off his arm. “You’re afraid I’ll find out what he threatened you with.”

Shepard held back the fire climbing up her throat from blazing out her mouth. She put her hands on her hips and kept her voice even. “He threatened to expose something Tautum’s done. I’m not Alliance and still have Spectre immunity. He can’t do anything to me, so he’s trying to find someone he can hurt to hurt me.”

“Tautum?” Kaidan regarded her quietly. “What did he do?”

“Something I probably got him into. Something I should remember, I know. But I don’t.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “Shall we go? I told you the thing I needed to tell you, however that helps you.”

Kaidan brought up the screen on his Omni-Tool. “The cave branches out in four kilometers, but there’s a half kilometer wide vault at the junction.”

He turned away and started down the tunnel. Shepard kept pace with him. Blue light trailed out behind him like a comet. He still wasn’t comfortable enough to drop his barrier, which made Shepard both annoyed and amused.

***

They walked in silence. Cold seeped through her armor making her skin prickle. Glassy sheets of ice closed in around them, and the light faded to a dusk. The light on Kaidan’s helmet flipped on. The beam cut the gloom. He checked the sonic map on his Omni-Tool and kept walking.

“Why do I still have clearances on the Normandy?” Shepard asked.

“Who said you did?” He glanced over at her sharply. “Have you been trying to access the ship’s central computer?”

“Cicero said I did. Was he wrong?”

Kaidan snapped the Omni-Tool screen down and kept walking, which itself was an answer. It didn’t make sense unless . . . 

She ran to catch up with him. “You really think something’s going to happen to you? I might need to finish out the mission?”

“Anything’s possible.”

Shepard edged in front of him and turned to face him. She walked backward since he didn’t seem interested in stopping.

“What if I just run off rogue with the ship? You know, after I’ve ensured you’re ‘taken care of.’”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Ha. You’re so sure? I’m evil enough to murder you but forthright enough to see through the mission?”

“You wanted this mission for some reason.”

“What reason?”

“Cicero wants war. You deliver the Shard to fix the Sol relay, it helps the Alliance win the war. You’ve even given the war a jump start by alerting the krogan we’re here. Something happens to me, you’ll never need to buy Cicero another birthday present.”

“You’re paranoid. You’re making up scary bedtime stories in your head. I don’t want war. That’s why I’m here.” She swung away from him and continued down the frosted tunnel. “You’re safer with me than you could be with anyone. Whether you believe it or not.”

“Safe like I was on Illium?”

A splintering crackle, like ice breaking, made Shepard’s feet slow. It came from deep within the tunnel walls. She strained to hear over her own breathing inside her helmet. A deep groan moved through the ice.

“You hear that?” Shepard flicked on her helmet light.

“Now who’s paranoid?” Kaidan slowed. 

“Listen.”

Kaidan’s biotic barrier dropped. The light buzzing sound of energy from his barrier disappeared. Kaidan held his breath, the air still and silent. Ice crystals floated in the air, catching the light in Shepard’s helmet beam. She looked around them. Her helmet light glittered off the slick, solid white walls and disappeared into the gray vastness ahead. Silence. 

“I don’t hear anything,” Kaidan said quietly.

“You had your barrier up. Of course, you couldn’t hear anything.” Shepard strained to hear that low moan of breaking ice, but there was only Kaidan’s soft breath on the comm and the distant roar of the storm outside. “It sounded like glass cracking under the strain of something heavy.”

The beam from Kaidan’s helmet dropped to his feet. He lifted his boots and stepped back. 

“The ice isn’t breaking below us. You think the cave is collapsing?” He scanned the walls with some program on his Omni-Tool and read the screen with scrolling fingertips. “Structural integrity is sound. Temperatures 208 Kelvin. It’s not thawing. Only concern would be strain from the weight of the ice above or pressure from the storm.”

“It wasn’t cracking ice. Not exactly. More like a far away moan. Something deeper.”

“And you think I’m the one making up scary bedtime stories.”  He waited. “Do you still hear it?”

“Not anymore.”

Kaidan gazed around them one more time then shrugged. “Let’s keep moving. The vault is just up ahead. There’s a bend in the tunnel, and then we’ll be able to see straight ahead.”

Shepard bobbed her head in agreement. She took her place a step behind him, but his pace lagged until they walked side by side. He didn’t look over at her or speak. Perhaps it hadn’t even been conscious. His biotic barrier hadn’t gone back up though.

“Alenko, you can trust me.”

“And if I couldn’t?” he said softly. “Wouldn’t you say the same thing?”

“Listen to me--”

“Shepard!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere in front of them. 

“Wrex?” Shepard squinted into the darkness.

A large shadow drew near, armored and wearing a helmet. Shepard’s helmet light illuminated red glinting eyes in the darkness and a wide, sharp-toothed smile.

“Wrex. Damn. It is you. This place is making me jumpy.”

“Ha! Shepuuuurd! In from the storm. So little, so light. Wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

“Almost didn’t,” Kaidan said flatly.

Wrex peered into Kaidan’s helmet. His grin widened. “Ah! Haha! It  _ is  _ Alenko.”

Kaidan’s posture stiffened. 

“Urdnot Wrex,” he greeted warily.

Wrex twapped Kaidan on the back making Kaidan’s armor pop and legs brace to prevent stumbling forward.

“Didn’t know you were bringing Alenko. Anyone else?” Wrex squinted behind them.

“Just Alenko and me.”

Kaidan drew Wrex’s attention with a flagging wave. “This moon always have storms like this?”

“Every time I’ve been here.”

“You didn’t think to tell Shepard that when you suggested it? There must have been a better meeting spot.”

Wrex chuckled. “Heh. Why? Close location to Tuchanka. Storm blocks passerbys listening. No one’s ever here. It’s perfect.” Wrex motioned for them to follow him deeper into the cave. Shepard fell in a step behind Wrex, and with sticky steps, Kaidan followed after them. Wrex was still chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Kaidan said dryly.

“You, Alenko. Worried about some wind. Shepard has killed thresher maws. Ha. Don’t fear. She’ll protect you.”

Kaidan’s breath fogged his helmet in a large plume. The exhale was sharp enough she caught it in her comm.

“Thresher maw?” Kaidan said. “What’s that to do with anything? A storm’s nothing like a thresher maw. The comparison doesn’t even make sense.”

“If you can kill thresher maws, a storm is nothing.”

“That’s doesn’t-- Fine. Lead the way.”

Wrex pulled Shepard up beside him with a heavy paw. She stumbled, slipping across the ice, and trying to find footing to keep up with him. Hands from behind steadier her by the shoulders then drew back. She fell into pace with Wrex, matching his wide steps, and breathing a little harder to keep up. Wrex leaned into her.

“Should have left Alenko safe on the ship.” Wrex tipped his head behind them in Kaidan’s direction. “Scared about a few snowflakes and a breeze.”

From the strained breathing on the comm, Kaidan could hear Wrex just fine.

“Didn’t Yurker Triphx kill the greatest thresher maw?” Shepard asked abruptly.

Wrex’s face split with a grin. “Ha ha! Shepard. You know the legend of Clan Yurker? The Great Thresher Maw Mordom, killed by Triphx’s hammer.”

“The hammer still passed down to each new Yurker Clanleader.”

Wrex’s yellow teeth stretched wider. “You are a true krogan, Shepard. Krogan blood in a body not formed of Tuchanka clay.”

Kaidan grumbled on the comm in Shepard’s ear.

“And how’d he die, Wrex? This great thresher maw killer.”

Wrex’s laugh shook the ice walls. Up ahead, the blackness was mellowing into a deep gray. There was light ahead, a small one. 

“Ah, Shepard. You know our history. Never knew. Yes, yes. I see now. Ha ha. It is true.”

“What is true?” Kaidan asked.

“Ryncol, Alenko. Ryncol.”

“He drank himself to death?” Kaidan said.

“Fell off a building,” Shepard filled in. “He killed the greatest thresher maw ever to terrorize Tuchanka, then fell off a one story building drunk. Guess not every thresher maw killer can fight natural forces, right? Gravity. Storms.”

Wrex’s body vibrated with laughter. “Ah. Good story. That.”

“How’s that a good story?” Kaidan came up beside them. “How long ago was that story? Thousands of years? He’s still remembered falling to death off a building?”

“Our legends are real. We don’t change it to fit what didn’t happen but wished did.” The light was still meters ahead of them. Wrex tapped Shepard’s shoulder with his knuckles and thumbed in Kaidan’s direction. “Alenko. He has changed. What is it you say? Ah. Lost your sense of humor, Alenko?”

“Why? I’m not offering a reward.”

“Wrex,” Shepard said, changing the subject. “There’s room in these caves. Why haven’t the krogan expanded here. You want colonies.”

Wrex was still eying Kaidan over his shoulder, but gave Shepard a quick glance. “Too cold.”

“The winters in Tuchanka’s south pole aren’t much different than this. Krogan live there.”

Wrex turned his attention to her. “You know Tuchanka’s south pole?”

“It’s just as cold.”

“Ah. True enough.”

“Then?”

“You humans build on planets where you can only live behind walls. Not the krogan.”

Shepard snorted, almost laughed. “Krogan don’t live on spaceships or space stations? Plenty of walls there, Wrex.”

“Too costly to build here. To keep. Just not a good place to settle.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes at him. There was something he wasn’t saying. Then again, more than a few people had told her over the years that she read too much into a simple answer.

“Uh huh,” she said side-eying him.

They neared the mouth to the caverned vault Kaidan had seen on his sonar map. The tunnel narrowed at the entrance. A mound of fallen ice blocked their path. It had been scraped and moved to the side with large krogan footprints circling around it.

“Did this just happen? Ice fell in?” Shepard asked.

“We can go around it.”

“Why not clear it with your biotics?” Kaidan asked.

Kaidan reached out a hand, but Wrex grabbed his wrist. “No. We climb around.”

“Why?” Kaidan tore his wrist out of Wrex’s paw.

“Structurally so-so.” Wrex squished through the small opening made between the pile of ice and the wall of the tunnel.

“Structurally so-so?” Kaidan extended his arms out and turned to Shepard.

“Alenko, just go.” Shepard motioned. “You’re next.”

Kaidan frowned, but he went next with boots slipping and hands grasping at the white ice wall. Shepard followed behind him. A cavern opened over them. Great vaulted ice walls extending into darkness in all directions, except for a single source of light on the ground ahead. Two krogan stood at the center of the cavern with an oil lamp at their feet. Wrex was still eyeing Kaidan as they walked toward his men.

“Ah ha.” Wrex said. “I forgot. Liara. That is why you are like this.”

Kaidan’s spine stiffened, and he snapped around to face Wrex. Shepard rushed to speak. 

“Let’s get this meeting underway. It’s freezing, and the Councilors are waiting on the comm call.”

“Ah, good. They wait on a krogan for once. Set them up.”

He moved to his two warriors. Kaidan glared darkly at his back and crossed his arms.

“Alenko.” Shepard waved at him. “Help me set this up.”

She tossed a comm disc at him, but it clicked off his armor. He scrambled after it and caught it against his leg.

“Dammit,” he snapped. “We only have three!”

“Then pay attention,” Shepard lashed back at him. 

Kaidan’s eyes flicked Shepard’s direction, and her heart sharpened in her throat. His eyes held a dewy hurt, whether from her snapping at him or Wrex bringing up Liara, Shepard wasn’t sure. He turned away sharply. He switched the comm disc on and positioned it on the ice. 

By the time, Shepard had fumbled the last disc from her pocket and placed it, Kaidan was already syncing them. The Omni-Tool lit his face. His eyes were barely visible through the light reflecting on the helmet’s plexiglass. When Kaidan lowered his Omni-Tool, his face had already become smooth and distant. The comms glowed to life on the ice.

“Only three?” one of the krogan said waving at the comms.

“Councilor Ilk was unavailable,” Shepard said.

The same krogan bared his teeth Wrex’s direction. “Even now, they will not all meet with us.”

“They’re on recess,” Shepard said. “Be glad we got most of them on board.”

Wrex rolled his shoulders. “We’ll see what they say.”

The other krogan growled. “They disrespect Clan Urdnot by--”

“Shut up.” Wrex rammed his forehead into the other krogan. The warrior reeled backward and shook his head clear. “I am clan leader. You hear me? And what about you? Anything you got to say, Chedur?” Wrex looked at the second krogan, who stood by the lantern.

Chedur’s attention was fixed staring into the darkness of the vaulted cavern around. Their lantern light only made a small bubble of light in the darkness. 

“I hear something,” he said.

“Wind,” Wrex said. “Let’s start. Enough waiting.”

***

One by one the comms projected a life-sized hologram into the air in front of them. First was Tevos straightening in her long dress and settling a datapad on a lectern. Councilor Wilson appeared next looking already annoyed. Sparatus materialized, arms knotted, eyelids skeptically narrow, and mandible clicking. 

Kaidan’s fingers flew over the screen on his Omni-Tool. He gave Wrex a nod. Wrex’s Omni-Tool glowed to life like hot coals in his hand, and a pale red film slid over Wrex’s skin. He took a spot in front of the Councilors.

“Urdnot Wrex.” Tevos inclined her head toward him. That answered the question if the projecting was working on the other side.

“Ha! The Councilors.” Wrex paced in front of the images. Red light flickered over skin with each jerky movement. “You come to the krogan now. Afraid. But finally wise.”

Tevos’s blue lips parted, brow wrinkling. She was lost on words. Wilson wasn’t.

“How dare you!” he roared.

“This is an outrageous start,” agreed Sparatus. “I wish I could act surprised at it.”

Shepard snapped her own Omni-Tool on. Red energy veiled her vision, and she came up beside Wrex.

“Shepard, this is not what we agreed,” Tevos said.

“Let’s calm down.” Shepard put her hands up “Let’s get it all out of the way, shall we? The krogan think they’re better than the Citadel Council. The Citadel Council thinks they’re better than the krogan. Both of you think you’ll win the war. And both, at the heart of it, don’t want to go that far. Let’s all just get along and move to the substance of a real talk.”

“This Neanderthal has something valuable to say?” Wilson’s mouth pinched. “We’re here. Go ahead, Krogan.”

“Twelve years nothing.” Wrex bunched his fists and moved along the row of comms. “Twelve years nothing! You, the Council, won’t acknowledge the ones who beat the reapers for you. You lied. Tricked us. Now you try to set the genophage back on us.”

Sparatus gave a hissing exhale. “You destroyed an Alliance vessel with Council liaisons. You sabotaged a mass relay and demolished an entire system. All the other relays there are lost. Unprecedented destruction unimaginable until now. You made an act of war not just against the Alliance, but all races in the galaxy.”

“We’re not declaring war,” Tevos clarified.

“Yet!” Sparatus pounded his lectern. “Learning more about the internal structure of the relays has been a disaster. It’s a crime of the highest order to destroy one. You used it as a weapon.”

“It’s unacceptable!” Wilson’s face was red. Spartacus’s wrath was catching. “Losing Arcturus is a loss to humanity that cannot be calculated. If the Sol relay didn’t have other connections--”

“Hee. Scare you? Little, soft, pink humans run in fear. That was only ten of Wreav’s ships. Just cruisers. There are dreadnaughts.”

“Dreadnaughts?” Tevos clutched the lectern. “How many? You are not allowed--”

“The krogan have been preparing.” Wrex grinned his sharp teeth at them. “We’ve been waiting. You promised us planets. You broke your promise. So we break ours. We’re ready to take our own planets now. Heard Thessia’s nice.”

Tevos lifted her chin. “How dare you.”

“Enough.” Shepard put her hands up again. “Did the Council not imply before the reaper war ended that the krogan would get areas to colonize?”

Sparatus jabbed a talon at Shepard. “That was you, Shepard, not the Council.”

“Did the Council know about it?” Shepard pressed.

The Councilors looked at each other but said nothing.

“Right.” Shepard interlaced her hands behind her back and looked at each councilor in turn. “You knew it was something drawing the krogan onward in the fight. A hope for their future, for growth, prosperity, the same benefits everyone else has. By the Council knowing about that deal, not disabusing them of it, you let them have hope. Then you never followed through.”

“If this is you lecturing us,” Wilson said darkly. “We can end things right here.”

“Weakinglings. I knew you would not talk.” Wrex snorted, dismissed them with a turned back, and walked away. “A waste.”

Shepard’s heart picked up pace. This was falling apart. Her eyes moved around them in the dark. She wasn’t even sure what she was hoping to find until she met Kaidan’s eyes. Through the glass in his helmet, he gave a weak smile. The slight nod of encouragement filled her lungs with air. She spun back to Wrex.

“Wrex!”

“No. They are determined to die.”

“Stop it.” She grabbed his arm, like trying to grasp a redwood’s trunk. “Stop being an ass. You want war? Really? The clans are finally united.”

“United against them. Hating you is what will make the krogan strong again. We’ll destroy you.”

“That’s the future you see for a united krogan?” Shepard snapped and dropped his arm. “You bathe in a galaxy of blood, bonded in rage and killing. Death all around you. It’s no different than the very thing we fought twelve years ago to stop.”

“If that is what must be done.”

“It doesn’t!” Shepard rounded in front of him to block him with her tiny frame. “Tuchanka could have universities again, Wrex. Yes, I know about them: the universities of old in Yurkosh, Urtuk, the Great Capitol. Krogan didn’t always only know war. What about the Gardens of Kur? The aqueducts are still there. The temple of Zarguth? There are ruins. The catacombs below your arena hold the greatest of those who came before.

“Who were your forefathers? Not the ones over the last thousand years, but before that. Before the Citadel Council. A table of clan leaders sat together in Ekhurt and decided the future of their people. They built great things: the Collusus of Tull, Bridges of Wahyax, the Poruchalack. There was art and music, philosophy, great cities, scientific discoveries, technology advancing by leaps, and they found the relay. Men and women were warriors, but so much more. Children weren’t raised to only live, fight, and die. They accomplished grand things other cultures envied. They added to what it meant to be krogan. There wasn’t just spilled blood and building dreadnaughts for war. Death. There was life.”

Wrex’s red eyes glowed. He stared at her unblinking.

“Wrex, I know it wasn’t fair. You know it. The krogan know it. In their deepest selves, the Council knows it. They’re scared of you.” Sparatus hissed, but Shepard ignored him. “But, Wrex, you should be scared of them too. One planet of krogan, even with your dreadnaughts and preparation, even if you bring the vorcha into with you -- you can’t fight a whole galaxy and win. You’ll get your bath of blood and feel mighty for a while, be unified in your vengeance. But in the end, it’s inevitable. They will destroy you. 

“This time there won’t be a genophage when they win. They’ll kill all of you. Tuchanka will be a bone yard. All the children you fought to bring into the galaxy will lay dead. The first modern krogan generation without the curse of the genophage will be massacred before reaching the age of twelve. But, you’ll know you had your revenge and taught the Council its lesson. At least for a little while, you were respected. 

“But your clans, Wrex? Your clans united to kill the galaxy and take planets by force? They’ll die united. Everything the krogan were, could have been, won’t matter. You won’t matter. In the end, the Council will have been right to reengineer the genophage to save you from yourselves. You’re just dust. No respect, no honor, no memory of you other than what the Council decides to put in the history books. That the krogan were ever great will be forgotten. Trust me, Wrex, the krogan can unite for so much more than this.”

Wrex studied her sharply. He drew in a heavy breath, and his eyes slid to the Councilors over her head. His eyelids narrowed. “We will die anyway. We suffocate on Tuchanka. The land is bad for the young. There are too many. There is no room.”

“There is space in the Terminus System.” Kaidan switched on his Omni-Tool. Red glowed over his armor.

“Alenko?” Sparatus said. “How long have you been there?”

“What do you mean by the Terminus System, Spectre?” Tevos cocked her head.

“The Terminus System is not for sale.” Wilson raised his voice and angled himself toward Kaidan. “Just because you’re fleet admiral of the sector, you think you can just give it to whoever you want? The arrogance. You want out of the Terminus System, Alenko? Then take a mobile fleet position. You’re not handing your sector over to the krogan.”

“Do you really think that’s what I’m proposing?” Kaidan snapped. “The Terminus System is not owned by the Humans System Alliance.” 

“Explain yourself, Alenko,” Tevos prodded.

Shepard stepped in beside Kaidan to listen. Wrex edged closer.

“The Terminus has a vast amount of uncharted space, likely with garden worlds or environments that could be terraformed. In charted space, we already know of habitable planets.”

“And most of them are inhabited,” Wilson said. “You want to force those people to leave so the krogan can have it?”

Kaidan’s jaw flexed. “No. Again, Councilor, that’s not what I’m saying. They’re not all inhabited. Even those that are inhabited are inhabited so sparsely there’s still 95% of the planet left to settle.”

“We have important resources there,” Wilson pushed.

“Those planets are not Alliance property,” Kaidan said. “Prior to ten years ago, human colonies in the Terminus System operated, for the most part, outside the Alliance. The area is safer now, but it’s not ours.”

“Then who are we to give it away?” Wilson lowered his voice and stared directly at Kaidan. “Those colonies will turn to the Federacy if they feel threatened by the Alliance planting krogan in the system. We can’t allow the Federacy more power in the sector.”

Kaidan pulled his eyes away from Wilson and looked to Sparatus and Tevos. “We’ll talk to the Alliance and reach an understanding. We can survey the known planets for the best colony options. If the krogan plant colonies in the Terminus System, there’s room to expand. The lawlessness -- piracy, slavers, organized crime, and local despots -- will give them plenty of opportunity to be diverted and use their warhammers. The krogan will always have someone to fight. They may even restore order in large parts of the sector that the Alliance can’t touch.”

“And a thousand years from now?” Tevos folded her hands on the lectern delicately though her tone was barbed. “When the Terminus System is swelling with more krogan than local warlords to fight? Who will they fight then, do you think?”

“There is a need for population control,” Shepard allowed, “but not by us, by them.”

“Control themselves? The krogan? Hmph.” Sparatus snorted.

“They can do it,” Shepard said with some force. She wasn’t talking hypothetically. “The krogan were ruled by clan leaders once. They’re capable of having order. Let them govern their colonies and control population expansion. And let them be part of the Council races as full members.”

“Give them Terminus System planets  _ and _ an ambassador’s office?” Tevos said.

“Again,” Wilson said firmly. “Who are we to give over Terminus planets. The Alliance oversees that area.”

“Trust me,” Kaidan said. “There are countless planets with breathable air, with water, soil, plant life. The only sapient life are pirate bands and hordes of mercenaries hiding in the cave systems or red sand smugglers camped in the forest.”

“Well, Wrex?” Shepard turned to him.

“The Terminus System is too far from Tuchanka.”

“The relays are a clear shot. Once the Terminus System relays are all repaired it won’t be difficult to travel.”

“And these Terminus System relays will be fixed?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Kaidan said. “No one would expect you to repair them. The Commission oversees it. It’s in our short-term goals to have them all functional again.”

Wrex rolled his shoulders and looked around at them -- Shepard, Kaidan, and the Councilor’s holograms. “Perhaps. I will think on it. It is not me who decides. The krogan clans must accept it.”

“Those dreadnaughts will need to be destroyed or turned over to the Council,” Sparatus said. “And you will abide by restrictions.”

Wrex’s eyes gleamed. Sharp teeth glinted in his mouth as he opened it to reply.

“Details,” Shepard said quickly. “That’s enough for now. What do we need to move peace forward into a reality? Councilors?”

“Ilk,” Sparatus said. “We need a full Council. We’ll need support from the Council seat races -- Primarch, Dalatrass, Alliance Parliament.”

“And when will that happen? You need all the players in one room to work out a peace offer.”

“It can be arranged, Shepard.” Tevos gazed at her and a slow smile crested her lips. “You will be there?”

Shepard shifted on her feet. “Uh, of course. But you don’t need me. You only need open minds and the right people in one room and . . . Alenko.”

“Alenko?” Wilson pursed his lips.

Kaidan frowned at her out of the side of his helmet.

“He has Alliance connections and knowledge of the Terminus System. He keeps Council interests in mind. Let the credit go to him, if anyone.”

“Shepard,” Kaidan said, “That’s not--”

“And you, Wrex?” Shepard pivoted to the krogan. “What’s it going to take on the krogan side to make this happen? To get a peace agreement worked out.”

“It must be an agreement the krogan will accept.”

“Then Wrex needs to be part of the discussion when your VIPs meet,” Shepard said to the Councilors. “What then, Wrex?”

“I kill Wreav.”

“And the krogan will follow you?”

“If they like the agreement, and Wreav isn’t there to speak war.”

“All right then.” Shepard strode into the center. “Councilors, arrange a congress with all the key members. Wrex needs to be involved. Craft an offer the krogan will want to accept and both sides can live with. Wrex removes Wreav’s warmongering, meeting with the Council, and then once the krogan accept the offer: Peace.”

Everyone stood quietly, looking around at one another, no one willing to speak.

“Well?” Shepard prompted. “That’s what needs to happen. You all have your part. Let’s leave it there for now. Thank you, Councilors.”

“Shepard.” Tevos’s shimmering form studied her. “You’ve done more with this single action than you’ve done for the galaxy in the last decade. You shouldn’t hold yourself back. You’re not Alliance anymore. The Council can use you. See me soon.”

“Humanity can use you too,” Wilson said barely waiting for Tevos’s sentence to finish. “You’re a Spectre, but don’t forget your other allegiance. Humanity. We should all talk.”

Shepard nodded just to move the meeting to its end. One by one the holograms faded away.

***

Wrex’s two krogan warriors had wandered off during the meeting. The dim light of the lanterns they carried had died into weak shadows at the mouth of the cave’s main tunnel. 

Wrex came behind Shepard as she collected the comms off the ice. “Shepard, this is good. This could be something. Didn’t think it could be done. Not at this point.”

“Thank Alenko.” Shepard waved Kaidan’s direction. “The right people were here today.”

“Alenko.” Wrex strode up to him. 

Kaidan switched his Omni-Tool off. The comm’s light died to a dull gray in Shepard’s hand.

“Alenko,” Wrex repeated. “You had a good idea.”

“Thanks.”

Wrex put a meaty hand on Kaidan’s shoulder. Kaidan rolled his shoulder, but Wrex didn’t let go. His fingers only contracted tighter on Kaidan’s armor with a metallic pop.

“I was hard on you earlier, Alenko. When Bakara died . . . She was my favorite. Felt empty for a while. Liara was kind but strong. I liked her.”

Kaidan looked up at him slowly. “Thanks, Wrex.”

“Battlemaster!” Krogan voices echoed toward them. Light flared back into the cavern from the krogans’ lanterns.

“What is it?” Wrex barked.

The two krogan sprinted toward them, rifle in hand “They’re here.”

“Who?” Kaidan said.

“You’re sure it’s them?” Wrex unslung the assault rifle on his back and narrowed his eyes at the mouth of the cave.

“Dammit. Who are you talking about?” Shepard said.

“Wreav’s men.” Wrex’s teeth gritted. “They’ll die.”

“How’d they know we’re here?” Kaidan said.

“Normandy?” Shepard pressed the comm in her ear. “Normandy? Dammit. I can’t get them.”

Voices roared from the tunnel over the sound of gunfire.

Shepard drew her pistol. “What the hell are they firing at?”

“They want us ready,” Wrex laughed. “Sneaking up is weak. Krogan aren’t weak.”

“How many of them?” Kaidan asked turning to the two warriors.

“Dozen,” one of the krogan chuckled and raised his gun at the icy tunnel echoing with voices.

“A dozen krogan?” Kaidan grunted, and his skin flared with blue energy. 

Wrex’s rifle dropped clattering to the ground. He grabbed Kaidan’s arm. “No, no. No biotics here.”

“Why?” Kaidan yanked his arm away. Blue energy flamed around him like the innermost part of a hot fire.

A hollow groan crackled around them in the walls. The krogan whipped their head around, grumbling and pointing their rifles different directions. Shepard shined her Omni-Tool light into the shadows around them, but the space in the cavern was too vast to see anything. The ice rumbled. It broke and snapped, like shards of glass, around them. The hairs lifted on the back of Shepard’s neck.

“What’s that sound, Wrex?”

Wrex grabbed Kaidan by the shoulder and shook him. “Drop the biotics, Alenko!”

“The hell?” Kaidan snapped back and shoved Wrex’s hand away. Despite the protest, Kaidan released the biotic energy glowing over his armor. The blue light faded away.

Wrex cocked his head listening. Shepard barely breathed. Under the sound of the voices and gun shots from the tunnel, she strained to hear the sound of the ice around them. Nothing.

“What was that?” Shepard said through her teeth turning to Wrex.

Voices blared into the cavern. Omni-Tool lights from the tunnel entrance cut into the darkness. Dim shapes moved with the flash of muzzle. Gunshots exploded in her ears. Her muscles coiled with that old familiar rush of adrenaline.

“Here they come,” Shepard said.


	10. The Tog

**CHAPTER 10: The Tog**

The ice cavern echoed with gunfire as Wreav’s men spilled in from the tunnel. Their Omni-Tool lights cut the darkness like scythes. Wrex’s warrior said there were a dozen, which seemed to be true when Shepard counted them. It was Kaidan, Wrex, his two krogan warriors, and herself again a dozen krogan warriors. Skewed odds. She’d faced them before, but that had been years ago. It didn’t take long to knock off the rust. The world slowed, her senses sharpening, and nostalgic reflexes took over.

“Lights out!” Shepard barked at Wrex and his men.

The cave dropped into darkness around them. The only light came from the charging warrior. Their Omni-Tool lights pierced the gloom, but it was only a small pocket of light. 

“Spread out. Stay silent. Do what I say,” Shepard hollered.

Wrex mumbled something to his warriors, and by the ice crunching under their feet, they were listening to her orders. It came reflexively, stepping up to point and barking out orders before even considering if it was her place. Reflexively they were following. Even Kaidan’s footsteps pounded away at her orders.

They were outnumbered more than two to one. It was dark as tar in an enormous space with only tiny bouncing Omni-Tool lights as targets. Anyone with a light was a spotlighted target, and right now, there were twelve spotlights. 

A krogan at the front with purple-tinged skin bellowed orders and motioned for their approach to slow. His eleven warriors were on edge and jittery. A red shimmer glowed from their eyes, and their movements were violent and exaggerated. They were in the simmering stage of blood rage. It explained the wild firing in all directions. To be worked up so early, they must only had one purpose in mind: spill blood across the ice.

Shepard couldn’t see Wrex or his men, but she could hear them spread out somewhere to her left. Kaidan was on her right. If they each dealt with the two krogan warriors in front of them without overlap, they might have a real chance in an ambush. The two in front of her were a bulky, wild-eyed brute and the plumb-skinned leader, the only one with blood-rage not boiling his brain. 

Shepard pushed the comm in her ear and whispered. “Back away, let them come into the center. We’ll come from behind and the side. Keep your eye on the same two. I’ve got the leader and the hulk at his nine o’clock.” 

“Taking the two directly behind Shepard’s nine o’clock,” Kaidan said.

The others named off their targets fast like shooting bullets. Apparently, Wrex and his men knew some of these men. They used names.

“Wait for my mark. Keep low, under their beams, be quiet. Get your Omni-blade out last second. They glow.” She shouldn’t have to say that, but with Wrex’s two krogan wildcards, she couldn’t afford not to be explicit.

Her eyes were adjusting more to the dark. She fell back with their advance, keeping to the shadows. Their errant gunfire hadn’t stopped, but they were aiming high and focused behind them. Perhaps they thought Shepard and the others meant to sneak back to the tunnel, which now she considered it, may have been the more rational choice. Too late now. 

The beams of light swept from their ‘Tool around them, no more focused and coordinated than the gunfire. Shepard kept low, her pistol aimed, and circled around the krogan into a better position. Kaidan was somewhere ahead of her closing in from behind on his two warriors.

The purple-skinned leader seemed to realize they’d wandered far enough into the cavern without meeting resistance that something was wrong. Their leader may have expected to find them waiting in battle formation at the center. Avoiding a head on attack wasn’t krogan. The cowardly humans may have run for the tunnel, but Wrex and his warrior should have been waiting. Wrex had probably needed to tongue lash his warriors for them to follow her such cowardly orders. To her, finesse and strategy were as worthy in battle as brute strength and boldness. It was knowing what to use when. 

She had almost sneaked in close enough to give the order and draw her blade. The krogan leader looked into the darkness straight at her. Perhaps he’d heard something or smelled her. He roared something. The cave fell into darkness. The krogan warriors had turned off their lights.

“Go!” Shepard ordered.

Her targets were only silhouetted memories. She was closest to the wild-eyed krogan. She slammed into him. Krogan were notoriously hard to kill in melee, but she knew where to strike. He didn’t have his helmet on. She’d caught him unaware. It was quick. He fell to the ground. 

She burst toward the krogan leader, or where he should have been. He wasn’t there. There was only the clang and whirl of Omni-blades all around her and the booming roar of krogan warriors returning hand-to-hand. She couldn’t see anything. Her only sense was tasting the metallic tartness of gushing blood in the air somewhere close by. 

She heard it coming. Ducked. An Omni-blade swung past her head. It glanced off the top of her helmet. A kick knocked her backward. She rolled and hopped to her feet. A glowing blade stabbed the air where she’d been a moment before. Red eyes gleamed at her through the shield plate of a helmet. A tint of purple flashed over his eyes when he blinked. It was exactly who she wanted to find.

She rammed her shoulder into his chest. It had been a long time since she fought a krogan in a real fight. He didn’t budge. The closeness still worked to her advantage. The krogan couldn’t twist his Omni-blade to his chest easily, and Shepard had the perfect angle. She drove her blade into the joint of his armor, right at the hip. It may have been a long time since she fought krogan, but she remembered the armor. The krogan’s breath caught, eyes going wide, and he stumbled. She rammed her blade into another spot. She avoided the krogan’s wild blows, fist and blade. Again. This time harder. So hard the krogan’s armor cracked and something gooey crunched under her fist. 

The krogan fell. He dragged her down with him. Her gauntlet was caught in the jagged crack of his armor. She tore at her Omni-blade hand to free it. She got leverage with her legs. The krogan was still gurgling in his helmet, alive, despite collapsing. He flipped on his helmet light. It blinded her. In the soft orange glow of Omni-Tools, the harsh white light was shocking. 

Something slammed into her back. First she thought someone locked in a separate melee battle had stumbled into her. Then she felt a sharp pull as the blade drew out of her back. Pain exploded from her chest, up her back, behind her eyes. She fell forward on the krogan’s body, her fist still caught in the krogan’s broken breast plate, the blazing helmet light blazing on her like a spotlight. 

She worked to free her fist, nerves exploding in pain, and a hot, metal swell of liquid rising up the back of her throat. A krogan shadow moved toward her. She pulled frantically, harder and harder. The krogan’s Omni-blade swung at her. Blue light flashed on the side of her vision. The energy hit him. He stumbled, and his kinetic shield flickered. 

He recovered and dove down on her with his blade. Shepard raised her other hand. The blade slammed into her biotic shield. It drove her flat against the dead krogan, but the shield held. Barriers had always been her strong point. 

The krogan pressed his weight on her. He pounded again and again with his blade. Shepard grunted, lung unable to expand, and her hand beginning to shake. Her body felt far away with the pain. Her arm weakened holding the biotic shield.

Blue light flashed over the krogan pounding on her shield. A warp. A powerful one. It shattered the krogan’s kinetic shields. The next flash of light hit him dead center. His back bowed in and he staggered. Another and he fell with a gagging curse. Light glittered over him like chainmail. Reave, the strongest one she’d ever seen. 

The krogan thrashed, eyes wider than she’d ever seen on a krogan, froth bubbling from his mouth. He grasped blindly around him with the chainmail energy still rippling over him. It started to fade. A hiss in the air and frost rose on his armor. His eyes crystalized, movements stopped, and he stiffened with the freeze. Kaidan’s Omni-blade shattered him into slivers of ice.

Kaidan grabbed her by the arms and tried to pull her upright, but her fist was still caught. Two kicks, a twist, and a pop and the hand that tried to kill its master was free. Shepard wobbled trying to stand, but the blood had left her head, and the world spun. She fell. 

“Shepard!” Kaidan said.

Even through her armor she could feel the chill of the ice, though, perhaps it was something else making her limbs grow cold. Her back hurt. Heavy footsteps pounded toward them. Between their biotics and the dead krogan’s Omni-Tool light, she and Kaidan were easy targets in the light. 

Kaidan ducked a krogan’s blade. His biotic barrier brightened over his armor. Bullets pinged off the barrier from enemies firing in the distance. The krogan slashed at Kaidan again with his blade. Kaidan reached toward him. A dizzying flash of blue light and the krogan’s kinetic shield broke apart. Frost blasted from Kaidan’s Omni-Tool, and the krogan stumbled mid-swing at Kaidan’s head. Kaidan would have missed the blade anyway. He was already ducking under the krogan’s arm. He slammed his Omni-blade upward into the helmet’s lock-in joint. The krogan’s fingers splayed, backing going straight, and he dropped. 

A bullet finally broke Kaidan’s barrier, and Kaidan dropped down out of the hail of gunfire. Wrex’s familiar bellow accompanied charging footsteps nearby. A crunch and laugh. The gunshots cut off. Kaidan nodded Wrex’s direction.

Shepard heard it. Far away, that low groan deep inside the ice, only this time it didn’t feel as far away. It cracked like ice, breaking and shifting. Her helmet was against the ground and she could feel the vibrations. No one else seemed to hear it. Kaidan raised a biotic shield over them with one hand and dropped beside her. The shield rippled with more bullets turned their direction.

“Shepard. You all right? Hey.” He tapped her helmet with his palm.

Shepard tried to nod, but it only made Kaidan’s frown deepen. A loud snap cracked through the ice around them. Shepard’s heartbeat sharpened.

“Do you need more medigel?” Kaidan gritted his teeth as the bullets turned from ripples to a constant barrage. Kaidan looked around them with a darkening expression. The krogan were surrounding them. They were a blazing blue target in the darkness, like gnats in the nighttime. 

Kaidan fumbled at her wrist one-handed, holding the biotic shield with his other hand. He checked her Omni-Tool, cursed, and snapped open a pocket on his suit. Her vision darkened. She felt a dreamy weightlessness, limbs limp and cold, and senses feeling far away.

“Shepard, stay awake.” 

His hand squeezed her shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he shook her. Her head jiggled inside her helmet. He was saying something. His palm tapping the side of her helmet and muffled all the other sounds, except that distant groan inside the ice. Even as her body lifted, she could hear it growing closer. Then there was darkness. 

_Yellow leaves fell from the aspen and crunched in her hair. She blinked into the sunlight. It glinted off the ocean. Waves rushed across the shore in the distance, and brittle grass tickled the underside of her calf. She was in a red dress. Gold leaves surrounded her under the white trunks of half-naked trees. Far off, against the red sun was the familiar outline of a house, half-finished with a skeletal third story, and wrapping decks that still needed railing._

_Something touched her shoulder. It was Avyn, black eyes and red cheeks. Her touch was cool and wet, her lips tinged-blue. Her damp swimsuit dripped water onto the dry grass. She was no longer in diapers, and her hair was black fuzz still growing back from the last surgery. Shepard opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Avy was lifting into the air._

_A tall, broad silhouette spun Avyn in the air. The red sunlight blinked like a strobe light with each revolution of his body. Shepard should hear Avyn’s giggling, but Shepard could hear nothing. Nothing but the roll of waves, crackle of leaves, and warm silence of the autumn sun. Shepard tried to stand, to move her arms, to do anything, but she was frozen. Avyn’s feet hit the ground, her mouth open and smiling, body shaking with a sound Shepard couldn’t hear._

_The tall figure came back to Shepard, his feet bare, pants rolled up and wet. He dropped to his heels beside her, and Avyn looped her skinny arms around his neck from behind. It was Kaidan. His smile stretched deep into his cheeks and shined out at her. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, his touch warm and gentle. She tried to lean into his palm but couldn’t. He said something, but she couldn’t even make out the words on his lips._

_He looped his arms under Avyn’s legs and picked her up on his back. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she smiled over his shoulder at Shepard. Kaidan turned toward the ocean and started up the sandy slope. The unfinished house stood dark against the bright sunset at the top of the slope. He was getting further away._

_Shepard tried to force herself to her feet. She tried to call his name. She couldn’t even claw her fingers into the dirt. It was impossible. She watched him leave: Avyn bouncing on his back, his bare feet leaving tracks in the sand, and their shadows disappearing into the last sliver of crimson sunlight. Shepard was being left behind. She thrashed against her frozen body. Darkness closed in. She screamed his name, and it finally broke free._

“Kaidan!” Shepard sucked in a long breath and opened her eyes. So cold.

“Shepard?” Kaidan’s voice strangled. “Shepard? Can you hear me?”

He searched her face frantically through the layers of glass. He held the biotic shield with one hand behind him and her wrist in his other. Her Omni-Tool blazed orange under his fingers with the injector light blinking. Numbness washed through her chest, cooled her core, and her limbs tingled with life. Kaidan dropped her arm. A vial of Medigel fell out of his hand. He held the side of her helmet, his thumb pressed to the plexiglass.

“Can you talk?”

“I’m . . .” Her voice came out sandpapery. Warmth pooled in her body, blood pulsing, and nerves reawakening.

“You’re what?”

“Okay.”

“Why didn’t you top off your--”

Ice exploded overhead. Kaidan pressed down over her. Chunks of frozen snow fell around them. The krogan gunfire cut off. A shriek, unlike anything Shepard had ever heard, sharp and deafening, shook the ice around them and left Shepard’s head ringing. Another downpour of ice from the cave’s ceiling struck the blue light of Kaidan’s shield. The ground shifted. In the distance was a dozen scrambling footsteps and wild gunfire. Screams and yelling. Krogan never screamed. 

Kaidan looked up through his biotic shield and his eyes widened. Air plumed out of his mouth and fogged the glass in his helmet. Still lying with her back on the ice, Shepard twisted her head to follow Kaidan’s eyes, but she couldn’t see beyond the visor of her helmet. 

Another alien shriek. The ground shuddered beneath them in a repeating boom growing stronger and louder. Footsteps. Large footsteps.

“Can you move? Let’s go! Let’s go!” Kaidan’s words tumbled together. 

He dropped his shield and dragged her up by the elbow. They hadn’t gotten to their feet all the way, and Kaidan inhaled sharply into the comm. Air whistled toward them. 

“Down!” Kaidan slammed into her. Air howled and passed over their bodies, as if by a swinging object. Kaidan was blocking her vision. She couldn’t see. 

Shepard gripped Kaidan’s arms. “Hey! What the hell is--”

“Roll!”

Kaidan rolled to the side and pulled her with him. Something came down hard. Ice exploded beside them. Their bodies lifted off the ice from the impact. Loud cracks splintered the ice where they'd just been laying. A deep fissure zigzagging out from the indent. The breaking ice groaned, cracked, and split open like a chasm. Kaidan cursed and rolled away from it, still clutching her. The crack deepened and widened. It branched around them. 

Something screamed overhead. Shepard looked up and saw it. Something shrieked overhead. Shepard looked up and saw it. White and translucent, skin like ice, it towered over them on two legs. It was an alien creature of some sort, nearly as tall as the Normandy, top to bottom. Too tall for the cavern even. It hunched over them, krogan scattering across the ice to escape it. Snow fell in crust sheets from the ceiling, scraped off by the creature’s backbone. 

It’s two arms swung at the krogan running toward the tunnel. Each fist hit the ice. One hit made a krogan fall. The other hit a krogan square on. It left a yellow mist. Krogan blood. The other krogan, there were only five or six of them, tripped over each other running away. The ice floor was broken with widening fissures. They jumped the cracks in the ice, and fired rifles over their shoulder at the creature. If Wrex and his warriors were among them, Shepad couldn’t distinguish them in the confusion and low light.

The thing’s two black irises, massive in an empty face, darted around the cavern. The cavern’s darkness was starting to lighten as the ceiling broke away. The creature swung without stopping, a wild, unfocused hammering of fists. Each impact lifted Shepard off the ice. Its joints snapped like crunching ice. A long groan, gravely and deep, filled the silence between sharp shrieks. It didn’t come from a mouth, but like air forced through narrow openings. 

Its fist sent a krogan wheeling into the cavern’s wall. He was quick back on his feet, missing the creatures’s next fist, and jumped over splintering ice. Dodging ice falling from overhead, he ducked the creature’s swings and leaped forward as the fists connected with the ground. 

The ice groaned underneath Shepard, shifting and weakening with the creature’s assault, even though it was a distance away. The fleeing krogan and awe of the snow beast melted away in realization. Kaidan had heard the ice groaning too.

“Up, Up.” Kaidan pulled her up.

The floor crumbled behind their heels. Shepard’s feet slipped. Her stomach rolled up her throat as she tripped. Kaidan made it to a stable plane of ice, and still swaying, turned toward her. She slid on a breaking chunk of ice toward the growing mouth of the chasm opening in the ice. 

Kaidan threw his palm out in a blue flash. She went over the ledge. His biotics hit her right as she fell. It left her head spinning. She floated like a bubble, weightless, her vision glowing blue. The only sound was the crackle of Kaidan’s biotic energy in her ears. She floated up over the edge of the chasm. Kaidan Pulled. The toes of her boots dragged across the ice. She slammed into him.

A shriek, half-hurricane, half-beast, shook the cavern walls and reverberated beneath them. The creature swung around. Its black eyes sharpened on them, and Shepard’s heart went cold. It crashed toward them enraged. Enraged by something . . . 

Wrex wouldn’t let Kaidan use his biotics to clear the tunnel or fight the enemy krogan. When Kaidan had his biotic shield up to protect them, the creature had singled them out for an attack. On their way into the cave, Kaidan had his biotic barrier up when Shepard heard the stirring in the ice. This thing didn’t like biotics. Now, again, Kaidan had used his biotics. The creature focused on them with its full attention.

Shepard still had Kaidan to the ground after ramming into him. She struggled to disentangle herself. The ground shook with the creature’s footsteps. It raised its fist over them. They were both in its shadow. 

Crystals of snow speckled the glass of Kaidan’s helmet, and he locked eyes with her. She knew what he was going to do. The shadow came down overhead. Kaidan rolled to the side and lifted a hand between them. His iris glowed. He was going to Throw her. She latched onto him like a starfish and pushed a biotic shield out with one hand. 

The impact of the creature’s fist splintered her shield. It sent pain shooting through her nerves like splinters of glass, but the biotic shield held. She couldn’t draw breath. Her barriers were second to none, but the impact left her the biotic shield flickering. 

Kaidan stared at her through the layers of fogged glass and frost. Despite her body quivering, she only hung to him tighter with her free hand. She was on top of him and wasn’t going to let go. He may as well not even try it. He didn’t try to raise his palm between them this time.

The creature raised its fist. Kaidan’s fingers brushed Shepard’s biotic shield instead. His energy, familiar and exciting, flushed her with memories: making love by the fireplace as icy winds off the ocean rattled the windows, his skin dancing with firelight and blue energy, Avyn fast asleep down the hall. Their barriers intermingling, fine particles not threads, her controlling his energy as much as her own. But that wasn’t now. This Kaidan couldn’t diffuse his barrier into particles. Her granules of energy formed threads of a lattice so he could weave through her shield. The shield hardened right as the fist hit.

Pain lanced through her bones. Shepard’s vision danced and blackened around the edges, like entering a moving tunnel. Kaidan arched beneath her and gasped, like he’d been struck physically. The third hit made Shepard’s body scream. Blood tapped onto the glass in front of her eyes. It was on the inside of her helmet. Kaidan’s eyes sharpened on it. Drip, drip, drip. Her body shivered.

The fourth hit made her fingers and toes flex with burning pain. Her body shook harder. Holding the shield was agony. Blood dribbled from the end of her nose and collected into a puddle in her vision. The groan wasn’t in the ice this time, it was inside her helmet. It was coming from her.

Kaidan rolled her onto her side. She’d be damned if he Threw her now though. She wrapped her legs around him. Perhaps it was too intimate of a gesture, but she wasn’t going to be ragdolled out of the way for the next strike. He gave her a pointed frown, either at foiling his plans or for being too personal, maybe both. It didn’t matter.

The ice beneath them looked like a broken mirror. One hit more, it would break. Her hand went to her belt, and the blue cord was there like it always. She held it up between them. The shadow narrowed over them. Kaidan’s eyes darted as if looking for a place to tie it. 

The fist hit them. It struck their shield, breaking it for good, but also cracked the ice around them. Shepard clung to Kaidan, blue cord wrapped around her arm, and threw the loose end blindly. The ground broke beneath them. It crumbled away with them like confetti into the chasm. 

They fell holding on to each other. Chunks of ice and snow fell into the darkness around them. The cord unfurled from her arm like a streamer. Blazing blue, Kaidan reached a hand up. He needed to tie it to something, but what was there to tie onto? Darkness swallowed them. Falling ice broke on something below, the bottom of the chasm. 

Kaidan made a satisfied sound. In a rush, he crisscrossed his arms across her back and gripped her shoulders. The rope tightened overhead. He gave her a pinched look. They both knew. It snapped taut.

She screamed. Her shoulder tore out the socket. Without the armor, her arm would have torn off completely. Instead, the cord snapped taunt and slammed them into a wall of ice. The blue cord wrapped her right arm, and they dangled from it. 

Pain exploded from her shoulder with the weight of their dangling bodies. The glass in her helmet was completely white. She breathed out of control, hot and fast and sucking, moisture suffocating her. Her back was agony, worse than when she’d first been stabbed. She could feel the wound torn open and bleeding. But her shoulder hurt worst of all. 

“Shepard?”

Kaidan shifted against her. Pain screeching through her joints, starting to go dizzy, and suddenly the weight eased off her arm. Kaidan grasped the cord above her shoulder with one hand. He lifted them and strained as if wrapping the cord around his wrist. The cord was still tied around her arm, but with the weight gone, she could breath.

“Shepard, you awake?”

Her head was rolling on her shoulder without having realized it. She couldn’t help it. Her body pulsed with pain, feet limp and numb dangling below her, while her limb above was on fire. Her voice was dried up. She tried to nod her head, but it only felt like lolling.

“Hell. That . . . You’ll be okay, Shepard. Just let me . . .” He tightened his hold around her chest with one arm, while the other held the cord.

The fingers of her good hand slipped off his waist. She couldn’t feel her body anymore. Her eyes were heavy, her muscles limp. It would be just -- 

The cord jerked them upward. Shepard’s eyes shot open. It was too fast for Kaidan to be pulling them up the cord. The cord was dragging them up fast. Too fast. Out of control. Shepard tried to lift her head. She met Kaidan’s eyes.

“There was nothing else,” he said.

Shepard’s blood went cold. He’d tied the cord to that thing. The rate they were shooting up from the depths of the chasm, they’d hit the ledge soon. It would hurt. Then where would the cord bring them? It was attached to that thing.

Light brightened their faces. Her body tensed. They snapped over the edge, catching the corner and then rolling across the ice with speed. Pain screamed from her shoulder and maybe her mouth. It felt like being run over and then left rolling over the road. The cord pulled them across the flat plane of ice at increasing speed. Kaidan let go.

The cord snapped tight from losing the slack Kaidan had held. Her arm jerked in the socket, the cord still tied around her arm. She left Kaidan behind, sliding across the frost on her back, bumping over fissures and broken ice, her vision going in and out from the knives in her shoulder and up her back. 

She tilted her head back just enough to see the creature scuttling ahead of her, hunched and elbows out, going toward the cavern’s wall. It slowed. It pushed its hand through the ice. Her heart stops. 

The ice cracked and moaned in a sound that rumbled through the cavern walls and vibrated the ice against the back of her head. The creature stepped into the ice, disappearing completely as the ice moaned and shifted. The cord slipped after it into the ice. Shepard’s breath hitched. She slid straight at the wall, going fast, and head first. She might not go through the ice like the cord. Or worse, what if she did? 

Her Omni-Tool was on her free hand. She drew the blade, heart pounding, and wall drawing nearer. She sawed at the cord over her head, but it wasn’t working fast enough. The wall stretched to either of her. She was about to hit it. The cord broke. 

The frayed end snapped through the ice wall. Shepard spun on her back across the ice, still carrying momentum toward the wall, but able to turn herself. Her boots couldn’t get traction to slow. Her feet hit the wall with a crack. Pain burst up her legs. Still nothing compared to if it has been her head. She let a shuddery breath drain out between her lips. Every part of her body felt in agony. 

“Shepard! Shepard!” Kaidan slid to his knees beside her. “Hell. I’m sorry. I forgot. The cord around your arm . . . Are you conscious?”

“Get . . .” Shepard gasped. Pain crackled through her body with each breath. “Get . . . shuttle.”

Kaidan cast a sharp looks up at the ice wall in front of them. Slowly, he wedged his arms under her body and lifted her. The cavern’s ice floor was broken like an arctic sea with scattered icebergs. Krogan bodies were yellow-orange stains on the ground and against the far wall near the mouth of the tunnel.

“Wrex?” Shepard’s voice crackled.

“No. He made it. I saw him,” Kaidan said softly against the side of her helm. He picked stable footholds along the wall and made his way toward the tunnel.

***

She remembered the shuttle ride: the bucking ascent through the storm. Each jostle stabbed through her body as if her bones had shattered to razored toothpicks. Pain pulsated from the stab wound in her back. A headache screeched with each movement from the wind.

Kaidan pulled her helmet off slowly, his other hand cradling her neck, then whipped the blood off her face from her nosebleed. He checked the readings on her Omni-Tool, adding it up under his breath, and then gave her more Medigel from the shuttle’s med kit. He injected it through her ‘Tool. When they reached the Normandy’s cargo bay, it was a new face looking down on her. A lanky, beetle-legged man in a white coat walked with her stretcher. 

“Shepard, tsk, tsk. Hope you brought your punch card.”

The medbay doors opened, and hands transferred her to a metal bed. She groaned. Tears burned her eyes. 

“Her right shoulder is dislocated.” It was Kaidan’s voice. “It didn’t try setting it. Bumpy ride back. She took an Omni-blade to the back, right lumbar area, below the diaphragm. Think it missed anything major. Lungs clear. Gave her a max dose of medigel on the way up. Trauma to her legs, impact fractures likely. Biotic fatigue.”

“And you? Your nose is bloody.”

“Oh. What? No, I’m fine.”

“She’ll need surgery. I’ll get some scans. Hold on, Shep.” A hand touched her good shoulder, long fingers like he was a frog.

“She’ll be all right?”

“She’s lucid. Always a good sign. Just need to see where that Omni-blade took her.”

She grimaced at the prick of pain on the back of her hand. The world melted away.

***

She opened her eyes, head fuzzy, and pain aching in her bones. The dim, green-tinged lights of night cycle hummed on the medbay’s ceiling. Recycled air raised goosebumps up her arm from an overhead vent. A thin blanket draped her legs, which were set in braces. Not broken then, maybe fractured. A plastic hospital gown crinkled as she struggled to sit up. Pain sharpened in her lower back.

“Dr. Chakwas?” she whispered.

No one was at the desk. The lamp and computer were dark. The stainless steel surrounding her paired with the bleach-smell gave the dark space a sterile feeling. The window to the mess hall was blacked out. An IV dripped by her bedside. The heart monitor was silent with a line squiggling up and down in a repeating pattern. Alone. She remembered now. Dr. Chakwas was dead. She’d been dead for years.

“Kaidan?” she called and twisted to see every corner of the room. There was only silence and emptiness.

Then she remembered that part too. The reality weighed on her shoulders like a water-logged wool blanket. This was the Normandy, but she wasn’t fighting reapers or getting a lift from James to some diplomatic session in another system. She saw Kaidan in her mind: smiling softly, bare feet in the autumn leaves, Avyn’s arms wrapping his neck. He turned away from her. Disappeared. He didn’t exist here. 

Shepard melted back on the metal bed and squeezed her eyes shut. She listened to the life support system, felt the chilly air on her arms, and focused on the smell of bleach. Anything but the pain. Her body relaxed and her mind drifted. 

Instead of lying alone on a metal bed, she stood in a red sundress under the aspens with the ocean churning in the distance. The smell of a storm rose in the wind. Leaves scattered and rolled across her feet. She needed to find Kaidan and Avyn. She squinted at the outline of their half-built house on the cliff. The footprints leading up to the house disappeared in the blowing sand. She couldn’t follow them anyway. She couldn’t even move.

*** 

Chewing and the sound of a plastic wrapper crinkling woke Shepard. She turned her head against the metal bed and let her eyes clear in the fluorescent lights of the med bay. Already her body felt more real, and everything around her was less dreamy and finally concrete. Her body ached, but she could probably move again. She wasn’t frozen like the red dress dream. The source of the noise was in the folding chair facing her bed.

“Joker?” Her voice came out rough.

Joker jolted in his seat. A candy bar, half in its wrapper, rolled out of his fingers and hit the floor. The holoscreen on his Omni-Tool continued to play an action vid on his wrist. He reached after his candy bar.

“Mind taking the miracles a little slower? One breath, snoring. Next, starting a conversation. Do some mumbling or twitching first. Prepare me.” His fingertips finally pawed his candy bar close enough on the floor, he could grab it. He sat back in his chair. “You practically had X’s on your eyes, you know that? You got more lives than ten cats.”

Shepard tested her voice, then cleared her throat. “Where’s the doctor?”

“Quigley? I dunno. Breakfast maybe.”

“And that’s your breakfast, a candy bar?”

“Look a little closer.” Joker shoved the wrapper at her. “See that. Granola. Not a candy bar.”

“Looks more chocolate than granola.” Shepard pushed the wrapper away and pulled herself upright with a groan.

Joker sat up straighter in his chair and looked around them. “Think you should be getting up? I mean, you just got stabbed in the back. Kaidan said you almost . . . You know. Needing coins for the ferryman.”

“Where is Kaidan?” Shepard threw off the scrap of blanket and twisted to sit on the edge of the metal bed.

“Kaidan? Probably out beating the drum to keep the slaves rowing at the same pace.”

“Oh.” 

It was weird waking up in a medical room without him. But that was her Kaidan. She was trying to make this Kaidan someone he wasn’t. Or, at least, someone he hadn’t been for ten years. “Know where the doctor may have stashed my clothes?”

“You came in with armor that was all busted apart. Your outfits probably in the recycling bin.”

“Oh.” Shepard frowned. “What about my underarmor?”

“Why’re you asking me? How’d I know that?” He finished the last bite of his candy/granola bar. He scrunched the wrapper in his fist and looked around as if trying to find a trashcan.

“Over there.” Shepard pointed behind him.

Joker strained around in his seat and aimed. Shepard smacked it out of his hand with a blue flash. It flew into the garbage can. She hopped down from the metal table.

“Hey! I could have made that.” 

“Never know, will we?”

Settling weight on her legs reminded her not to go too fast. The braces eased the pressure from any fractures. Her bones were jittery, still recovering from biotic fatigue. She had strained her biotics with that Abominable tried to tenderize her. Her and Kaidan. Neither could have held it that long alone. Kaidan had tried to Throw her out of the way. That look in his eyes, shadow closing down on them, his hand lifted and flaring blue. Yes, if she hadn’t stopped him, he would have Thrown her.

Shepard scrunched the hospital gown closed in the back and shuffled along the counters checking drawers. “Better get that doctor for me, or I’m just leaving on my own, hospital gown and all.”

“You’re wanting me to go find him?”

“Yep.” 

Shepard threw open a cabinet door and rifled through the rags hoping to touch actual clothing. She opened another drawer, searched, and slammed it shut. A datapad slid off the corner of the counter and hit the floor.

“Dammit.” Shepard muttered, and mindful how she bent over, she picked it up. The screen lit. Nothing was cracked in the display.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Joker said screeching his chair back from the metal bed. He stood. “You break that, Quigley’ll blame me.”

“Why?”

“It was on this chair.” Joker tapped the back of the folding chair. “Moved it when I sat down. Quigley saw me. He won’t exactly need a line up to decide who broke it.”

The Alliance logo stared back at her with a tiny symbol in the corner showing it was Normandy property. A generic datapad no one would care about. Joker liked to be dramatic.

“I’ll go find him, I guess.” Joker hobbled to the door.

“Grab something real for breakfast.”

“It had granola. Sheesh, mom.” He disappeared through the door.

“I was once,” she whispered.

The door slid shut. Shepard released the back of her gown and stood against the wall. The datapad was still lit up in her hand. Admiral Cicero said she still had clearances on the Normandy, which should carry over to all the Normandy’s generic datapads. She pressed her fingerpad to the screen. The Alliance logo melted away. The screen lit up with an Alliance database of classes of warships and stats on their weapon systems. The search field blinking on top read ‘Thallinix Cannons.’ The tight-faced woman in the Terminus System had been talking about Thallinix cannons.

“You’re awake.” She heard Kaidan’s voice before the med bay door slid all the way open.

Kaidan strode in looking crisp in a fresh Alliance uniform, jaw shaved, and hair coiffed. He was ready for the day, and she probably looked a mess.

“This yours?” Shepard held out the datapad.

He took it and frowned. He logged out of the database and dropped the datapad back on the counter.

“The ship’s,” he answered. “Are you all right?”

He folded his arms even as he said it. Shepard mirrored him.

“Another close shave, I guess.”

“Thought you were going to die. Down there.” He said it matter-a-factly, voice flat, but the intensive way he studied her eyes contradicted it.

“I thought _you_ were going to die. Down there,” Shepard said, matching the same cool tone. 

“Why? I didn’t take an Omni-blade in the back.”

“You were about to Throw me out of the way of that thing’s fist.”

Kaidan’s eyebrows drew together, and his arms loosened in their fold. “How . . . maybe.”

“No maybe. I saw that look you gave me. You were going to toss me out of the way. Let yourself get pulped.”

“Pulped?” He chuckled, but stifled it quickly. “What else could I do? I knew my shield would never withstand that. I didn’t think about yours. It worked out though. What you did.”

It had been years since she’d been in the field with him. Sometimes she wondered if they’d accumulated more time in the Council room than all the time they had on the Normandy.

“Kind of felt like old times,” she said.

Kaidan’s arms knotted tighter.

“Barely remember,” he said coolly.

“Seemed to remember when it mattered.”

“Maybe.” Kaidan considered her for a moment. “I’m sorry about your arm and letting you get dragged across the ice. I forgot the cord was wrapped around your arm. I thought you’d just drop it. I wouldn’t have let go if I realized. I’m sorry.”

Shepard shrugged. “You saved us both with that move: snaring that thing. Lassoing a fist-swinging snow beast? It’ll make a good report. Reserve the movie rights.”

“I haven’t updated the Alliance with a report. Not yet.” Kaidan leaned sideways against the counter. “I’m not happy with Wrex’s move to bring us there. He had every opening to warn us about that thing. He clearly knew about it. Then Wreav’s men . . .”

“Wrex made it back safe? How long was I out?”

“Ten hours maybe. I’ve already filed my complaint to Wrex in person. Wreav’s men knew to track us here. While their away party attacked us in the caves, their ship was playing cat and mouse with the Normandy.”

“Which was the cat? Which was the mouse?”

“Joker tells the story. You can predict the casting. He destroyed their ship. There’s no evidence Wreav was on it. Wrex’s ship is keeping pace with us to the relay, but when we arrive . . .”

Shepard waited. Kaidan frowned at the wall over her shoulder, his eyes distant.

“What?” she said. “You still think Wrex will betray us? Let me talk to him.”

“No, not that.” Kaidan’s eyes shifted to her face. “I’m . . .”

“What?” Shepard frowned.

Kaidan cleared his throat and pushed away from the counter. “I don’t know. We’ll see when we get there. It’ll be a couple of days taking another way around. We don’t want to cross paths with anyone Wreav sends to investigate his lost ship. Wrex agreed to accompany us. The least he can do, I think.”

Shepard’s frown deepened. “What are you worried about, K--Alenko?”

The med bay doors opened. The praying mantis-looking doctor came in with a curling grin.

“Admiral, you’re up. Walking even. Excellent.”

“Not an admiral anymore, but thanks.” 

Not being scolded after leaving bed without permission was a novel concept with a medical professional. The man seemed to know her well. He just nodded at her and passed around her to a cabinet on the back wall. He pulled out a set of bleached scrubs and came back to her.

“I can go?” Shepard accepted the clothes.

“Keep the risk level in yellow for a while. Don’t forget, you just had a knife through your back. Fractured your left femur badly. But you’ll be fine. Discharged.” He acted as if he’d stamped her forehead, then turned away whistling a tune. He rummaged in a drawer, rattling metal instruments, and stacking sheets of gauze on the counter.

“I’m on duty,” Kaidan said and turned toward the door. “You did a good job with the Councilors, Shepard. Hope this works out for you.” 

“Alenko. I did it for you.”

“Right.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and pushed the button for the door.

“You helped broker the deal. You’ll bring the Alliance in on it and finish up the final talks. This is a good start.”

“You still lied to me.” Kaidan walked out the door.

Shepard frowned at the closed door, holding the scrubs in her arms, and listening to Doctor Quigley’s bouncy whistling. Kaidan didn’t need to take ownership of the peace talks right now. He could keep the chip on his shoulder about it for now. When she was gone, he’d be forced to take ownership and claim the victory that would overshadow the lesser shortcoming of not returning with the Shard. 

***

Shepard paced in front of the empty fish tank in her room. Dark and silent, the room squeezed around her the pressurized depths of dark water. All she could think about was Kaidan and the Shard, how his face would look when she shattered it. He’d be shocked. The mission in an instant failed. 

She rubbed her shoulder. Her back and shoulder were still killing her from the fight in the cave. She glanced at the computer terminal on her desk. It had fallen dark after enough minutes of disuse. Wrex hadn’t been apologetic. Perhaps Kaidan’s earlier beratement had exhausted all the remorse Wrex could muster. 

Wrex wasn’t sure how Wreav’s men had found them. He’d taken precautions, backtracked over his trail, and kept an eye behind him. After the debacle in the caves, Wrex had interrogated his warriors. He reviewed the ship’s transmission signatures since departing Tuchanka. Nothing. His men hadn’t tipped off Wreav. As for the ice monster, Wrex had only chuckled.

“The Tog,” he said, almost reventially. “Warriors used to go after it. Lure it with biotics. It hates dark energy. Don’t know why. But it can’t be killed. Like trying to kill a rock. Haha. Useless.”

He didn’t seem particularly upset that the Tog had mashed her and Kaidan through the ice.

“Haha. But you live. You fight the Tog and win. Only you, Shepard. Only you.”

“This isn’t funny, Wrex,” she’d snapped and thrust her finger at the screen. If he’d been standing there, she would have headbutted him. That probably would have only amused him more.

“Shepard, you kill thresher maws. You walk away from the Tog. Even save Alenko. You are a true battlemaster.”

“I know you didn’t see, since you were half-way down the tunnel after Wreav’s men, but Alenko had to carry _me_ out. I swear, I even had a near death vision, Wrex.”

“What did you, Shepard?” Wrex peered closer into the screen. 

She breathed cool ocean air, brittle leaves crunching against her bare feet, wind scattering footprints in a sandy trail she couldn’t follow.

“Home,” Shepard whispered. “Home and a goodbye.”

Wrex nodded with a grim expression. “You will not be surprised again. Next time, I will tell you.”

“Next time, don’t choose a moon with a category ten snow storm, and a Tog waiting in the ice to smash flat any biotics.”

Wrex had laughed. It still rang in her ears. It was the most she could get from him in sympathy.

The message light on her terminal blinked. Shepard scrambled to the desk and saw the name. Finally. She pushed the ON button. Miranda’s face filled the screen.

Miranda was in her office. “Shepard. What is it?”

“Hey, Miranda.” Shepard drew her chair up to the desk. “How’s it going?”

Miranda checked her Omni-Tool with a tired expression, maybe seeing another message or consulting the time. “Well, Shepard? I have a schedule. I got your message. Here I am. What do you want?”

“We’re almost to the relay.”

“The dormant one? It’s taken you long enough. Thought you already had it by now. I kept expecting to hear you’d installed it in Sol already. Then with its dust on you, I imagined you’d poof away to your happily ever after or whatever.”

“I wanted to say goodbye. You don’t think I’d say good bye first?”

“We said goodbye when you left to board the Normandy. I wasn’t aware it was meant to be a series.”

“Well . . .” Shepard rolled a pen under her palm on the desk. The night cycle lighting on the Citadel’s arms twinkled behind Miranda’s desk.

Miranda checked her Omni-Tool again. “Let the transcripts show I said ‘goodbye.’ Again.”

“Miranda?” The pen tapped back and forth as it rolled on the glass under Shepard’s palm. “If the Shard was to break when I tried to remove it . . .”

“Break?” Miranda sat up taller in her chair. “Why would it break, Shepard?”

“Accident. Who’s to say?”

Miranda’s eyes thinned, and she leaned forward. “You said you only needed to touch it to get particles in your skin. The Shepard in this timeline fractured the Sol’s Mass Effect Shard. Broke it beyond salvaging, and you completely broke the one in your timeline. It’s not just touching it, is it? You’re going to shatter it. You’re not fix the Sol relay at all.”

Shepard’s fingers curled around the pen, knuckles whitening. She held Miranda’s eyes.

“I’m right then.” Miranda bared her teeth. “I can’t believe this. You lied to me. You knew I wouldn’t help you, if you planned to destroy the shard. So, you lied to me. You think you’re better than the Shepard who lived here? You’re the same. That’s if your story’s even true about these timelines.”

“Why would I make this up?” Shepard threw her pen against the wall and stood up. “I’m not the same.”

“You are. You’re just as deceitful. You use people. The only reason I’ve seen you in the last year is because of your seizure.”

“I’m going home. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“While I’m stranded in the Sol System, like the rest of humanity, because you threw away one of the Sol relay’s last activations?”

“There are other relays to get another Shard from.”

“And other people who can get the Shard without breaking it?” Miranda’s frown suddenly sharpened. “Was that a lie, too? You don’t know how to get the Shard without destroying it?”

“I started peace talks with the krogan. That’s something for you and this timeline. And now Kaidan’s on this side of the relay. I’m sure he can find another Shard. You’ll be fine long term.”

“No one’s done it successfully but you. No one has the knowledge from the beacon. I suppose that’s if you even remember it.” Miranda reached for a button on her monitor. “Stranding us? Stranding me? Low, even for you.”

The monitor flipped off. Shepard stared at her own reflection in the dark screen. 

***

“What are you doing in the battery?” Shepard said, stepping into the dim space fizzling with energy from the core below. She half-expected the shadow in the corner to be Garrus, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d been summoned here after all.

“Working on stuff,” Kaidan said vaguely and closed a panel on the wall. He read over something on his datapad and glanced over at her. “Come in. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I was hoping it wasn’t to calibrate anything. I’m crap at tech.”

“Why’re your hands shaking?” Kaidan lowered his datapad to stare at her.

Her fingers were quivering. The shaking was getting worse. She wasn’t hungry for it to be low blood sugar causing it.

“Low blood sugar,” she said and clasped her hands behind her back. “I’m here. Talk.”

“We’re en route to the dormant relay.” He leaned his hip against the capacitor’s steel shell and tucked the datapad under his arms.

“You need me to do something?”

“Still have a few days. We’re going in slow.”

“Slow? Why?”

“What do you need for retrieving the Mass Effect Shard? Do you really need me there, or was that just to persuade Parliament to send me instead of another admiral?”

The question opened a choice she hadn’t considered. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to see Kaidan’s face after all when the mission failed and the Shard shattered.

“You want to stay on board the Normandy?” Shepard asked.

“I’ll be where you need me. I want this to work, so just tell me where that is.”

Shepard’s fingers threaded and unthreaded behind her back. He looked so expectant. He had so much faith she would get the Shard for him.

“What if it doesn’t work?” she said carefully.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” His eyes sharpened. “Wait. You don’t actually know what you did wrong last time?”

“No, no, no. I do.” Shepard rushed to say. “It’s just ‘in case.’ Something can always go wrong. The bridges surrounding the beam holding the Shard can be unstable. I could fall or who knows.”

“Then I’ll go with you. Make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“So I can get the Shard for you?”

“So you can get the shard for everyone.”

“That’s why you saved me down there in the caves?” 

Kaidan’s brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could have died down there. Felt like I almost did. You were going to Throw me out of the way of that thing’s fist. Was it a selfless act for humanity? I’m the only one who can retrieve the Shard, so it was me over you.”

Kaidan studied her face in silence. “Of course not.”

“Of course not?”

“Shepard. You know I wouldn’t let you die.”

“You act like you hate me.” 

“I have hated you.” A sharp gleam reflected back at her in his eye. “But I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Shepard’s hands shook harder, and she clenched them tighter against her back. “Oh.”

“I’ll help you get the Shard.”

“Sure.” Shepard rasped. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry things weren’t better between us.”

Kaidan scuffed the floor with his boot. “It wouldn’t have mattered. The person you are now . . .” He shook his head. “Even if you hadn’t . . . treated me that way. Even then. You still only care about the end goal. Even now, you’ve lied to me more than once. You could be lying to me now.” He met her eyes. The sharpness was gone, but the distance had grown deeper. “What happened to the person I knew?”

“I’m right here.” Shepard took a step forward. “I’m right here.”

“No, you aren’t. You only think you are.” He passed around her toward the door. 

“And what about you?” Shepard snapped, turning to watch him. “What happened to the person I knew?”

“Dead.”

“No, you aren’t. You only think you are.”

He glanced back at her, then hit the button beside the door. He left her alone with the humming engines and shaky hands. He and Miranda were wrong about her. She was nothing like the other Shepard. The other Shepard hurt people. She wasn’t hurting anyone. Not really. Not long-term. Long-term she was helping more than hurting this timeline. Kaidan would eventually be all right. Still, her mind kept returning to Kaidan’s crestfallen expression when the Shard shattered and the mission failed. 

If only she knew, she would never have to see his face when the mission failed. In forty-eight hours, Kaidan Alenko would be spaced.


	11. Barbwire and Ice

**CHAPTER 11: Barbwire and Ice**

_ The asari assistant rose from the desk. “Dr. T’Soni said she would always see you if you came by.”  _

_ Shepard shrugged. “Just social, it’s not worth interrupting business.” _

_ Outside the tinted windows, Nos Astra glittered in the sunlight. The reception area outside Liara’s office was more mausoleum than rented office space. Marble columns and filigree flowers molded into the ceiling panel far above -- expensive, especially in Nos Astra. Couches were spaced far enough away from the reception desk to avoid overhearing. Two salarians sitting against the wall watched her with impatient frowns. An asari by the window was reading a datapad, obviously waiting in line herself for an appointment. _

_ “This way.” The asari assistant glided across the glossy floors to an imposing-looking pearl-colored door. Rather than there being an office behind the pearly door, there was a long hallway of glass and platinum. “Dr. T’Soni specifically said to always let you in. The door at the end. It’s unlocked.” _

_ The hall echoed with Shepard’s footsteps. It was a long hallway for only a single door at the very end. It seemed like a waste of space, but then perhaps that was the point. It was a demonstration of power. The long walk provided an opportunity to reflect on the information broker’s opulence and then feel small, like approaching an audience with the king. _

_ Shepard slid through the door at the end of the hall. The setting sun blinded her. It was a large room from the way the sound echoed. There were voices, both female, talking somewhere in front of her. _

_ “That’s not the amount we agreed upon at our last meeting,” someone said. _

_ “The price of information is not static.” It was Liara’s smooth voice. “The Shadow Broker has clients willing to pay far more for this information if . . .” _

_ “No! No, we’ll pay it. Just don’t sell it.” _

_ Shepard blinked away the light, and the room came into focus. Liara sat straight-backed and regal in a tight indigo dress. Datapads spread across a massive shinny, black desk by window, too large for any one person. Shepard took a step forward, and Liara jolted in her chair. Her eyes locked on Shepard for one wide-eyed moment then cut abruptly to her visitor, a human woman, older, in expensive but forgetful street clothes.  _

_ “Your assistant . . .” Shepard stopped sharply from entering the room any further. _

_ Liara came around the desk and put her back to Shepard, seemingly to block Shepard’s view of the client, as if Shepard even cared.  _

_ “The information will be suppressed for twenty-eight days awaiting your monthly subscription. I apologize about the inflation, but information compounds. You must understand.” _

_ “This amount of capital per month will require more signatures than mine. I’ll be in touch.” The stranger’s voice was familiar, but Shepard couldn’t place it. _

_ “This seems like a bad time,” Shepard said, hugging the door where she’d entered. _

_ Liara put a hand up as if to silence her without bothering to look Shepard’s direction. Liara was too focused on the woman in front of her. The woman stood, steel-colored hair curled into a low bun, and a rigid cut to her posture. Rigid like a soldier. Then Shepard knew. Her stomach soured. The woman handed Liara an OSD datachip, and Liara led the woman to a side door. Liara waited for it to shut and then turned back to the room. _

_ “Shepard. This is unexpected.” _

_ “I can tell.”  _

_ Liara glided across the room. “What did you wish to see me about?” _

_ “Was that Rear Admiral Forsman?” _

_ “Who?” Liara said sharply.  _

_ Shepard motioned at the side door. “Come on, Liara. You know who. That woman.” _

_ “You didn’t see anyone here.” Liara’s eyes penetrated into Shepard with a hard edge. _

_ Shepard folded her arms. “That doesn’t work on me. I’m not one of your minions.” _

_ “Minions? I don’t treat my people like minions.” _

_ “Doesn’t matter anyway,” Shepard said tiredly. “Can we talk now? Rear Admiral Forsman, who I didn’t see, has left. You don’t have any other Alliance admirals hiding in the nooks?” _

_ “No.” Liara ground her jaw. _

_ “Then okay.” Shepard passed around her. _

_ “What do you want, Shepard?” Liara’s voice followed her into the room. _

_ “You need tinted glass in here like your lobby. Do you spend all afternoon squinting?” Shepard gazed around the bright space with its unfathomably high ceiling. A wastefully large space for a single desk, no matter how enormous the desk. This was like meeting the king. _

_ “Did you come here to talk about window tinting?” Liara slid behind her desk. _

_ Aside from a pair of uncomfortable-looking couches in the corner, the only furniture was the large black desk and two chairs on either side. So sparse, large, and sterile.  _

_ “Shepard?” Liara drummed her fingernails on the top of her chair. _

_ “Hmm?” Shepard faced her. _

_ “My question.” _

_ “Window tinting. Right.” _

_ “No. Why are you here?” _

_ “You don’t want me here?” Shepard said it with a smile, but not without a little force holding it in place. _

_ Liara studied Shepard with a guarded uncertainty, but Shepard’s smile must have counted for something. Liara’s posture eased. She set the datapchip the admiral had given her on the edge of her desk, pulled out a chair, and sat. _

_ “I’m sorry, Shepard. What did you need?” _

_ “Need? Why do I have to need anything? I came to see you is all.” _

_ “That’s all?” Liara peered at her. _

_ It had been a few months since Vega’s wedding in the orchard. The whole thing still tasted like bile in the back of Shepard’s mouth. Though that could also be from a lot of nights of batarian firewater and drunken fumblings in the dark.  _

_ Shepard sank in the opposite chair. “How have you been?” _

_ “I’ve been well.” _

_ Liara’s standard answer to that question apparently. Shepard gritted her teeth in a smile to avoid rolling her eyes. _

_ “The Broker game?” _

_ “Not a game, but well enough.” _

_ “Everyone thinks you’re just a high-end broker?” _

_ Liara glanced around the room and gave Shepard a pointed look. Apparently, even in her own office Liara worried about who could be listening. _

_ “Right. How’s rebuilding the shadow web going?” _

_ “There aren’t enough brokers established in major areas who have built trust with clientele. The Shadow Broker is only at 25% coverage with embedded information sources.” _

_ “Percentage based on?”  _

_ “Prewar estimates of the Shadow Broker’s capacity. The figures aren’t even from the zenith. The Shadow Broker isn’t over reaching.” _

_ Shepard half expected Liara to turn off the lights, flick up a slide show, and start indicating bullet points with a laser pointer. _

_ “Good to get a purview of the corporate vision.” Shepard scooted back in her chair. _

_ “You sound sarcastic. What answers were you wanting?” _

_ “I don’t know.” Shepard rested her boot across her knee and leaned sideways on an armrest. “You’re really taking this as your calling? Thought it might outlive its usefulness. Benevolent usefulness.” _

_ Liara’s mouth tightened. “Is everything you do benevolent?” _

_ “What happened to the Protheans and archeology?”  _

_ The office has tastefully sparse: white shelves on the wall, a few potted ferns, empty ceramic vases, a bowl of large marble-looking things on an end table by the couch. _

_ “You ever put anything in that vase?” Shepard thrust her chin its direction.  _

_ Liara didn’t follow Shepard’s motion and stared coolly at her from across the desk. “This is a visit to sit in judgement of my choices then?” _

_ “What? No.” Shepard’s foot dropped from her knee. _

_ “You accuse me of boring you with business statistics. Say I’m motivated by self-interest and abandoning my higher, true calling? Am I forgetting more of your criticism?” _

_ “Don’t forget the untinted windows.” _

_ Liara shot up, chair screaming backward on the marble floor. “I realize I forgot an appointment.” _

_ “Really?” Shepard rolled her eyes and stood herself. “I’m joking with you.” _

_ “That’s what someone says to cover their barb.” _

_ “And the ‘forgotten appointment’? That’s not what someone says to cover storming out on someone?” _

_ “I’m planning on my assistant guiding you to the door.” _

_ “Liara, come on.” Shepard leaned over the desk on her hands. “The tinted windows really was a joke.” _

_ “The rest of your observations?” Liara crossed her arms under her breasts. _

_ “I didn’t mean anything by it. Look, Liara,” Shepard’s heart picked up pace, “I’m . . .” _

_ Liara waited with her mouth turned down and fingers tightly clutching her elbows. Shepard chewed her lips and almost swallowed the words she’d practiced on her way here. She forced herself to spit it out. _

_ “I’m sorry about Vega’s wedding.” _

_ A light quickened in Liara’s eye. “What do you mean?” _

_ “Let’s not pretend. I know what you thought.” _

_ “You deny it? It wasn’t me you wanted walking in on you.” _

_ “You’re right.” Shepard gazed at the desk’s black glass below her face. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. It wasn’t about you. You had nothing to do with it.” _

_ “Nothing to do with me?” Liara echoed, voice cool. _

_ “I was only thinking of myself. I’m sorry, all right?” Shepard glanced up. _

_ Liara looked away, but nodded. “Thank you.” _

_ “Good. I want to be friends again.” _

_ Liara studied her warily from the corner of her eye. “I do, too, Shepard, but not if . . .” _

_ “I’ve moved on,” Shepard said quickly. _

_ “Jacob?” _

_ Shepard snorted. “No.” _

_ “He was just a victim of opportunity?” _

_ They all were. Shepard smiled grimly. “Guess so. I can be a real bitch sometimes.” _

_ Liara smiled wanly. “Me too.” _

_ For an instant, Shepard was in the orchard again, blossoms scenting the air and mud squishing under her heels. Liara’s head lolled back against the apple tree, her fingers in Kaidan’s hair, a smug smile tainting her lips. She stared straight at Shepard. Shepard jerked herself away from the memory. _

_ “Fair’s, fair,” Shepard said. _

_ Liara’s smile stretched wide and genuine. “Shepard, let’s just put this behind us.” _

_ “Couldn’t agree more.” Shepherd stood away from the desk. Her hand accidentally brushed the stacks of datapads on the corner of the desk, and they spilled off. Liara’s eyes sharpened on the datachip teetering on the edge. She lunged after it. Shepard went for it too. They grabbed it at the same time. Their hands touched. _

_ “Sorry. I didn’t even see . . .” Shepard’s blood stopped in her veins. She went cold. _

_ Liara plucked the datachip from Shepard’s numb fingers. Shepard’s eyes traveled with Liara’s hand, but her focus wasn’t on the datachip. _

_ “What . . .” Shepard cleared her throat. Her heart pounded. “What’s that?” _

_ Liara followed Shepard’s eyes to her hand. She looked up with bright eyes and a soft smile growing on her lips. _

_ “It’s a human custom, is it not?” Liara put out her left hand. Sunset glinted off the clear stone. The damn windows should be tinted. _

_ “It’s a . . .” Shepard swallowed the lump growing in her throat and forced a smile. “It means what I think it means? Kaidan?” _

_ “Yes.” Liara’s smile grew deeper. Her whole face glowed. Glowing was the right descriptor for a situation like this, wasn’t it? _

_ “When?” Shepard’s facial muscles twitched from holding the smile. _

_ “It was recent.” _

_ With anyone else, Shepard would have dredged up the customary questions, injected bounce in her voice, and been only mildly bored with the detailed answers. “How did it happen? What date were they thinking? Who had they told?” People always wanted to talk about it. Here, now, though, all the right questions dried on her tongue. _

_ “It is a fascinating human practice,” Liara said in a soft, distant voice while turning the ring on her finger. “Most species have some form of monogamy. Pair bonding may only be for a season. Some for how long it is mutually agreeable. It’s contractual or contextual. Humans are among the most extreme, taking it as far as promising themselves everlasting to one individual alone. A vow before witnesses meant to be permanent. Meant to last a lifetime.” _

_ “Whatever a ‘lifetime’ means for one side.” _

_ Liara’s blue eyes intensified on Shepard’s face. Shepard renewed the strength in her cemented smile, and the piercing glint in Liara’s gaze softened and faded. _

_ “True. That is a unique issue among interspecies unions. Lifetimes are incongruent. It’s a part of being asari.” _

_ “I’m sure in one asari lifetime, many satisfactory ‘unions’ can be arranged.” Shepard forcefully drained the bite from the last words and kept her smile wide.  _

_ Liara really searched Shepard’s face this time.  _

_ Shepard folded her arms. “I suppose for a short-lived human, being with an asari has a greater sense of immortality than generations of children. Ten generations of human descendants, even five, you’re forgotten. Arrange a suitable ‘union,’ you’ll be remembered long past any human product will remember you. I’m sure for you, five -- even ten -- suitable unions later, you’ll still remember the old ones fondly. No favorites, of course, just like having kids. All loved equally, or so I’m told.” _

_ Liara’s eyes dropped. She pinched the diamond between her fingers and spoke in a low voice. “A part always lives on inside of us. Sometimes it’s a comfort. Sometimes it’s a curse.” _

_ “Carry enough living on inside of you, it might get a little crowded. Could need a head count once in a while. Make sure you haven’t forgotten any in the dark corners.” _

_ “You don’t understand. You’re human. A single, lifelong monogamous relationship is idealized by your culture. I can see how a lifelong commitment could appear cheapened when for one party it isn’t life. This can be hard for a species like yours to understand.” _

_ “But Kaidan understands?” _

_ “Yes.” Liara’s eyes rolled up to Shepard’s face and glistened. “Don’t you think I would change that part of it, if I could?” _

_ “Change that part of it how?” Shepard shrugged. “You really think you’d still make our human commitment to lifelong monogamy to one person if it meant a thousand years? Might make it more than a party and a bit of jewelry.” _

_ Liara clenched her jaw. A tear slid down her cheek and welled on the cupid’s bow of her lips.  _

_ “Perhaps I would,” Liara whispered. _

_ Shepard’s throat constricted. She hadn’t meant to make her cry. “Liara, I’m just saying--” _

_ “Dr. T’Soni,” the comm on her desk spoke. _

_ Liara turned sharply to it, brushed fingers over her cheeks, and punched a button. “Yes?” _

_ There was a pause. Perhaps the assistant could hear the warble in Liara’s voice. _

_ “Is it all right to interrupt, Dr. T’Soni?” _

_ “Of course it is. What is it?” _

_ “The salarian curator is here. He didn’t know if--” _

_ “I’ll be right there,” Liara released the comm’s button. _

_ Liara still had the admiral’s OSD datachip in her hand. She pulled out the top drawer of her desk and dropped it inside. It had an Alliance logo. She slammed the drawer shut. _

_ “I need to see Curator Kryssis on an important matter.” She averted her eyes and rounded the desk toward the door. “I’m going to greet him. You may take the side exit, if you wish.” _

_ “Liara, wait.” Shepard’s heart twisted. “I”m sorry. All of that.” _

_ “Why? It’s true.” She reached for the door’s button. _

_ “No. Really, Liara, listen.”  _

_ Shepard came around her and stood in the way of her opening the door. She took Liara’s hand with the ring. The simpleness of the ring bit into her: bright and faceted, clear and pure, but simple. A single stone. It looked like something Kaidan would choose.  _

_ “Look . . . I’m -- I’m really sorry.” Shepard’s voice cracked on the last word. The other words she meant to say stalled like a conveyor belt pile-up. She drew a deep breath. Steady, steady. She felt her face heating. Liara held Shepard’s gaze, but she was blurring in Shepard’s vision. Liara squeezed Shepard’s hand. Steady, steady. Nothing fell down her cheek. It was only that, a blur around the edges of her vision. _

_ “You haven’t moved on?” Liara asked softly. _

_ “No, I have. I--” Shepard couldn’t trust her voice. She raised Liara’s hand instead and smiled pointedly at the ring. “I’m happy for you.” _

_ Liara stepped into Shepard and embraced her. Shepard’s lungs filled with a light floral scent like rose water. Liara gave her a firm squeeze. _

_ “Good bye, Shepard.” Liara pulled away, eyes bright, and a small smile. “I want to see you again.” _

_ Shepard nodded. Words couldn’t be trusted to come out right. Liara left without another word, and the door swished close behind her. Shepard bit a knuckle. A hot trickle tasting like brine touched her lips. Her breathing came faster and faster. She needed to get out of here, someplace dark and alone . . . or not alone. She’d passed a seedy looking bar on her way to see Liara. A not-bad looking drell had been watching her in an interested way. _

_ Shepard shot toward the side door. Her feet caught. Admiral Forsworth had left out the same door, and it made Shepard’s mind spin with the question. She turned back to the room.  _

_ Sunlight fell across the black desk under the window. The door Liara had exited through was silent. No footsteps on the marble outside were signaling her return yet. _

_ Shepard dashed to the desk and threw open the top drawer. She snapped the OSD datapchip into her Omni-Tool. It was encrypted. A warning blinked that copying the files would cause self-erasure. Voices rose from far away. A door opened, probably the main door into the long hall. Footsteps echoed toward her. _

_ Shepard dug in her pocket and pulled out an OSD datachip of her own. The same Alliance logo stared up at her in her palm as the OSD plugged into her Omni-Tool. The voices were almost here. Shepard deleted her own OSD chip’s data, a quick clip into her ‘Tool, fast keystroke, and the datachip was rattling into Liara’s drawer in replacement of the real one. Liara’s OSD datachip carefully curled into Shepard’s fist. _

_ Shepard was halfway to the side door when the main door swished open. Liara’s conversation filled the room. Shepard slid out the back exit just in time. Her heart was still pounding as she strode down the nondescript hallway in the outer part of the building. The datachip pinched in her fist. There was something important Liara was hiding, something to do with the Alliance. Perhaps something Kaidan didn’t know about. Shepard pushed the chip into her pocket.  _

_ She didn’t need to worry about that now. She only needed to remember where the seedy bar was that she’d passed and hope the drell was still there and lonely. Of course, it didn’t have to be him. Who the hell cared? It could be anyone. Anyone as long as she wasn’t alone and couldn't think about anything beyond the sensations of the moment. _

_ *** _

Shepard dropped her dinner tray on the table in front of Joker. She felt hungover from dreaming. Her hands were shaking again, ever since she got off the elevator. She probably looked awful with bags under her eyes from not sleeping. Seeing Liara cry was still etched in the back of her eyelids. 

Joker didn’t look much better. He didn’t even look up at her tray hitting the table in front of him. He was hunched over a bare plate, his fork scraping abstract patterns in the leftover gravy.

“The cheese sandwiches looked safer than the gravy.” Shepard slid into her seat. “Already regretting it?”

“What? Huh?” He looked up bleary eyed. His fork screeched across the plate making her cringe. “Sure we should sit together?”

“Gah! Stop that. Sounds awful.” Shepard plucked the fork away and dropped it by her plate. “What’s the matter with you? Still ass-sore about being grounded? Thought he gave you back the keys.”

“I’m back on duty.” Joker adjusted his baseball cap.

“Why so sulky then?” Shepard popped open the top of a juice carton.

“I dunno. This whole mission just sucks. You got axed. No longer the CO. My record’s all red-inked. Got grounded. Alenko’s being an . . .” Joker shot a quick look around them then lowered his voice. “This mission’s just sucking ass.”

“You got to take down a krogan ship, didn’t you? Stealthy deployment and extraction. Secret flight plan. Can’t be that bad.”

Joker shrugged and stared down at his plate. “We’re getting closer to that dormant relay.”

“Good.” Shepard took a bite from the sandwich and studied him as she chewed. “Really, though, Joker. What’s eating you?”

“Nothing. It’s just . . .” Joker’s eyes flickered up to her face. “Got a transmission in from Thessia. Not for me or anything, just saw it come through the antennae. Got patched through to Alenko.” His eyes lingered on the XO’s door. “Kinda made me think about the last time I saw Liara. It was on Orian. She was so happy. Kaidan was happy. That kid of their’s was with ‘em. Liara kept hugging me. Almost had to be, like, ‘Hey, stop. One when you see me. One when I go. That’s it.’ Kaidan, he, uh . . . He bought me a couple rounds of drinks. James was there. I got a little hammered, I guess. You’ve seen me. I get all gushy and stuff. Started going on about Allison. You know, how things went off the rails at the end. Wished maybe I’d done something different. Here they both were: married, kids, seemed happy. 

“Kaidan put his hand on my back and tells me all this crap about not giving up. Maybe I should reach out to her, you never know, right? I think, uh . . .” Joker chuckled with a grin. “Think I even loaded my Omni-Tool up, but Kaidan pulled my arm down. Maybe later, he says, after a shower or coffee, don’t be a dummy, think about it.” Joker laughed again, and his smile brightened. “I haven’t told you, cause, you know, your trial stuff and whatever. But . . .” He pulled a plain gold band from his pocket.

Shepard launched across the table and grabbed it. “Are you . . . This is just an engagement?”

For the Joker she knew there was only the Normandy and the next mission. He spent weekends drinking beer and watching biotic ball games with James and Alliance buddies. He went to the strip club, not on dates.

“No,” Joker said, “it’s, like, signed, sealed, and delivered. Haven’t announced it or anything. And it’s kinda weird wearing a ring. Just keeping it in my pocket for now.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Alli’s parents are going to be super mad. They’re on Orian, and it was kinda a spur of the moment thing back on Earth. We’re thinkin’ we might reenact it. Maybe not let them know it’s a reenactment.”

Shepard chuckled and flipped the ring back at him. He caught it.

“You can come.” Joker eyed her indirectly, suddenly shifty, and repeatedly readjusted his baseball cap. “James married us. Got ordained to do it on the extranet. I was thinking -- for the reenactment -- could be nice having an, uh . . . best person or something.”

“You're asking me to be your best man?”

“Best person. Come on.”

Shepard grinned openly making Joker roll his eyes. This wasn’t her timeline. She had no idea who Joker had married, and she was never going to Orian for a wedding reenactment. She said yes anyways. It was worth the happy glow underlying Joker’s deliberately casual shrug of acceptance.

“Cool.” He tucked the ring back in his pocket. “You might have to wear a dress.”

“I’ve done it before.” 

He had no idea how many times she’d worn a dress. She was a pro in heels now. Joker eyed the XO’s door again, and a shadow passed over his expression.

“That doesn’t make you happy?” Shepard gestured at his pocket.

“Uh, yeah.” Joker focused back on her. “I mean, I was just amazed she wanted to be with me, you know? Got aboard for this mission, she was all I could think about. I told you she was an engineer, right? You met her once. She’s so tiny. She fits in all the ship crawl spaces. Really gets her hands dirty. Never met someone like her who loves ships and flying as much as me. Not a human anyway. Plus, she laughs at everything I say. Got that squeaky mouse laugh. Makes me laugh at her laughing. Guess this is the first time I ever really thought about much beyond the cockpit, but being with her . . . Maybe there’s more to it? I miss her.”

Shepard chewed another bite of her sandwich. “I don’t get it then. You’re worried about the commitment or something?”

“No.” Joker scrunched his face, pulled his hat off and refigured it on his head. “It’s just, I’m all married and stuff. Who knows what’s next? Then I saw Kaidan. He’s changed. Only six months ago, everything was the other way around.”

“Oh.” Shepard set her sandwich down on the plate. She brushed her fingers on a napkin. “I thought maybe his mood was directed at me.”

“I’ve never seen him this way. James brought me out for drinks after doing the wedding. Told me Kaidan’s not returning comm calls. He kinda snapped at Becca when she tracked him down. Kaidan’s sister was even in town. He just kept saying he was too busy to see her or whatever. Then I saw him. After the first Normandy went down, he was pretty roughed-up, out of it for a long time, mad at me. But he didn’t hate everything and everyone like this. It’s different. 

“Then he got that transmission from Thessia. Don’t know what it was, but must have been bad. It’s bad enough when he’s mad and you can see it boiling, like when he found out about me masking your transmission. He was mad then. But this? Just silent and staring off. I kept having to repeat myself when he was in the cockpit. Then he’d just nodded, didn’t even look at me, and wandered off.”

Shepard frowned and pushed away her plate. “Where is he? Did he go to his room?”

The XO’s door may as well have a moat around it as far as she was concerned. If he was in there, her intrusion would only be “badgering” him as he always put it. It would make things worse.

“Starboard lounge last I saw,” Joker said.

“The lounge?” 

That meant something completely different then. He went to a public space.

“You’re going to try and talk to him?” Joker’s eyes widened. “I don’t know about that.”

“What can he do?” Shepard picked up her plate with its half sandwich and wadded napkin.

“Uh, he’s a biotic. Maybe he could blow a hole in the hull or something if you stir him up too much.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “You’ve watched too many vids.”

“You don’t think he could?”

“The Normandy’s hull? No. Besides, it’s Kaidan. He has a tight rein on that sort of stuff.”

“Until he doesn’t.”

Shepard washed her dish. Joker watched her with eyes larger than the plate she was cleaning.

“I promise not to stir him up.” Shepard patted Joker’s shoulder as she passed. “Congrats by the way.”

She stopped in front of the door to the starboard lounge and took a deep breath. She squared her shoulders and pushed the button.

***

Kaidan stood staring out the lounge’s starry glass wall. Shepard’s feet faltered. The outline of his shoulders in that Alliance uniform, standing right there, it was so familiar. Suddenly, she was years younger. The galaxy and everything in it was torn apart. The deaths of people she loved hung over her like a shroud, and she wondered if she had days or months left before she joined them. But this -- this one good thing in all of it -- was something lost and for once actually returned, the best thing during the worst time. The comfort of knowing he was here before the end warmed her. She could feel alive before she died. 

Some things never changed, like seeing his silhouette outlined by the stars. Then again, some things did change. He looked over his shoulder at her now, and ice crystalized in his eyes. The door slid shut behind her.

“What now?” He turned to face her.

“Nothing. Be at ease. I’ve filled my trouble quota for the mission.”

“Doubtful.” Kaidan crossed his arms.

“I do overfill my quota on occasion. I’ll give you that. The starboard lounge is on the crew deck, and the crew deck is on my list of allowable places.”

“You knew I was in here. What do you want?”

She dropped onto a bench facing the window. “You always did like this room.”

“You’re just going to ignore my question?”

“I came to spend time in your vicinity. We can talk or ignore each other. I have books downloaded on my ‘Tool, so I’m all set for the ignoring each other option.”

“You’re the last person I want to spend time with in any vicinity.”

It was cutting, not just the words or tone, but his dark glare. 

Shepard forced a smile. “You have to know saying that would hurt me. You want me to go? Then fine.” She stood. “I’ll go, but I’ll tell you why I came in here. It wasn’t just to intrude on your starry-skied reflections.”

Kaidan didn’t say anything. He just watched her coolly. Her chest was still hemorrhaging from the wound he’d given her, but she didn't leave. No yet. She put her hands on the back of the bench.

“Look. Joker said you got some transmission. You seemed upset.”

“That has nothing to do with this mission,” he snapped.

Shepard put her palms up placating. “Fine. Didn’t say it did.”

“You’re trying to pry.” 

“No, that’s not--”

“Stay out of my personal life. It’s bad enough I have to have you in my professional one.” His jaw flexed. “Go, or I will.”

Shepard glanced back at the door. Soon she’d be home, back with the Kaidan who loved her, her best friend. None of this would matter. Knowing that should have made standing here easier, but it didn’t. This was still Kaidan, just another form. He was all barbwire and ice, but suffering. Even though it shouldn’t matter, she didn’t want to see him in pain. He may hurt her now, but once she was home, this would fade away and no longer matter. If she managed to help him in any way that may not fade away and could matter in the long-term, then . . .

“Kaidan--”

“Stop.” He frowned at his first name and lifted a finger between them. “We have a strictly professional association or nothing at all.”

“Fine! Alenko.” Dammit he was aggravating. “There. Are you happy? Now listen.” 

He had strayed closer than she realized. There was only the bench between them. The flushed color in his face, rigid set to his shoulders, the way the veins stood out in the muscles of his arms -- she’d only seen him this way a handful of times. Perhaps Joker’s fears weren’t completely unfounded. It wasn’t her making him upset. He was displacing it. 

She pressed on. “I’m not prying. I don’t need to know anything, but I can tell you’re upset. When you’re upset, sometimes you want to be alone. But you’re not in your room, you’re here. Talking helps you. It doesn’t help everyone. Sometimes talking about something just makes me madder, but for you, you need it. After you’ve stewed on it alone, you want to talk to someone.”

“Don’t presume to know me.”

“Tell me I’m wrong. I could be.”

“I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you.”

“Fine,” Shepard snapped back. She fought to control the fire bubbling in her veins. “Whether it’s conscious or not, Kaidan.” She gave him a defiant glare in return. “That’s why you’re in here. It’s not to talk to me, apparently, but you want someone around. You may not want to talk about anything personal. Maybe you just don’t want to feel alone. You’re lonely. Hey, don’t get mad at that. That’s just what I think. I have no ulterior motives here, Kaidan, except that I do care about you. You think I’m this horrible person who’s only out for my own gain, but not with this.” 

“I’m not naive. I have no doubt you think you care about other things: the Council, the Alliance, your supposed friends.” He said it with a bite. “Everything you do has ulterior motives. You’re selfish, unfeeling, corrupt. You  _ are _ a horrible person, but even more than that, you’re--” He caught himself as if surprised at his own sharpness.

This was going nowhere. She let it wash over her and backed away to the door. 

“I’m leaving as requested,” she said. “The starboard lounge is yours here on out. I’ll be like a vampire never invited over the threshold. If you change your mind though . . .” 

She stopped at the door. He studied the floor with his arms knotted, but there was something else surfacing in his expression. He bit the corner of his lip, probably unconsciously, and a worry line furrowed deep in his brow. It was the look he got when he feared he’d disciplined Avyn too harshly. 

“You know where to find me,” she said. “Like I said, I’ve got books on my Omni-Tool. I’m perfectly ready to just ignore you and exist in the same vicinity. Now, good night.”

The door slid shut at her back. She jabbed the button for the elevator. His words shouldn’t hurt her like this, but they were lost bullet fragments still tearing up her insides. Damn him. No one could hurt her like him. For the first time, she regretted giving him the power.

*** 

Hunched over the desk in her cabin, Shepard woke with a jolt. A paperclip fell off her face when she lifted her head from a pile of old paper reports. Her cabin door dinged again. She stumbled to her feet, still weary and sick from her conversation in the starboard lounge. She opened the door. 

Kaidan looked up. His arms were crossed, face blank, but his eyes had lost the piercing coldness. Instead his eyes just looked empty.

“What’s up?” she said mildly.

“I . . .” His voice faded out, and he swallowed before speaking again in a rushed tone. “I wanted to apologize. I was harsh to you. I meant the things I said, but you’re right. I said them to hurt you, and I said them too bluntly.”

“I don’t mind being talked to bluntly.” Shepard folded her arms and gave him a quick smile. “I know you don’t like me. It’s fine. Apology accepted, and I appreciate it.”

Kaidan nodded quickly and dropped his eyes. “Good.”

Shepard regarded him for a long moment. “Well? Were you wanting to exist in the same vicinity? You say you meant what you said, though it was too blunt, but maybe the last person you want to spend time with in any vicinity is the only option.”

Kaidan was shaking his head before he even lifted his eyes. “No. I just wanted to apologize. To make sure you weren’t . . . I was afraid I’d hurt you.”

“You did hurt me.” Shepard’s jaw tightened, and she stared him back in the eye.

Something shifted in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Shepard gave a stiff smile. “Like I said, apology accepted.”

He nodded, and his eyes drifted around the landing area of her cabin. He wasn’t leaving. Shepard rested her cheek against the door frame and waited.

“Hey,” she said. “You don’t know anyone aboard, except for Joker and me?”

“I’ve made the rounds,” he said focusing back on her.

“Not know their names and Alliance track records. But it’s just Joker and me, right? The ones you really know.”

He folded his arms tighter against his chest and shrugged. “I suppose. We’re hardly cut off though.” He flashed the Omni-Tool on his wrist.

“Okay then.” Shepard let the silence stretch between them. Finally, she gave him a vague smile. “Well . . .” 

“Right.” He pivoted to the elevator.

“Bye, Spectre Alenko.”

He stepped into the elevator and pushed the button by the door. “You can call me . . . whatever.”

“Bye, Whatever.”

He grinned lopsidedly, almost despite himself it seemed. “Night, Shepard.”

The elevator doors slid shut. Shepard backed into her room. When the cabin door closed, it didn’t feel quite as dark and cold as it had a few minutes ago.

*** 

The crew deck opened before her with the smell of breakfast sausage and syrup. Shepard stepped out of the elevator. She stumbled into Kaidan.

“Shepard, I was coming to get you.” Kaidan around her into the elevator. “We reached the relay, and it’s what I thought. Are you coming?”

Her hair was still wet, smelling of shampoo, and she hadn’t had coffee yet. But here it was. It was time. She was finally going home. She checked the electricity chip installed in her Omni-Tool, the one Miranda had given her. The vial of eezo was in her pocket. This was it then: she would shatter the Shard, lose Kaidan long enough to find someplace private, and she’d go home. 

Kaidan seemed impatient, stopping the elevator door with his hand, and shifting on his feet in an agitated manner. She was leaving too many things unfinished, the peace talks and the situation with Sol, but now was her chance. She’d left enough pieces, Kaidan could put them together after she was gone and probably still come ahead for it. 

Shepard stepped into the elevator. “What is it exactly you thought?”

“Our stealth system has kept us undetected, but there are krogan ships waiting for us.” Kaidan let the door shut.

“Wrex’s?” Shepard asked, but she knew.

“No.”

The elevator stopped and opened into the cargo bay. A flurry of soldiers had datapads out, and the armory door was open with weapons being inventoried. One of the soldiers tossed Kaidan a rifle.

“What’s happening?” Shepard asked.

Ahead of them, the shuttle hummed to life. Lights switched on inside. The same Alliance pilot who had taken them to the moon sat in the pilot’s seat. N7 armor was stacked inside the open door of the shuttle, presumably Shepard’s armor, a set that hadn’t ended up in a wastebin.

“You and I are transferring to Wrex’s ship,” Kaidan said. “He can get us closer to the relay. If he aligns his ship just right between the other krogan ships and the dormant relay, we can make it. An energy leak from a supposedly poorly maintained evac sync will mask our shuttle signature to the relay.”

“Sounds like a stretch.”

“You have a better idea, then by all means.”

Someone pushed a pistol into Shepard’s hand. It was the beak-nosed soldier from before.

“Admiral, just unloaded that from the requisition crate. Good luck.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Several soldiers lined up shoulder to shoulder with Beak Nose and snapped her a salute. Shepard frowned, and with hesitation, returned it. A row of sad eyes and firm nods. If anyone said it was an honor serving with her, she was going to be seriously unsettled. They went back to their duties.

“Do they think this is a suicide run?” Shepard turned to Kaidan.

“They know it’s risky.”

Kaidan hopped into the shuttle. Shepard followed suit.

“Check your armor,” Kaidan said. “Make sure it’s all there.”

Shepard pawed through the pieces: breastplate, left gauntlet, right gauntlet, left knee guard . . . Kaidan exchanged a few words with an officer standing just outside the shuttle, then he slammed the shuttle door closed. The shuttle hummed to life. A low vibration traveled through the metal at her feet.

“All set?” Kaidan stood over her.

“Yes.” 

Electricity, eezo, her biotics, and soon the Shard particles embedded in her armor and skin -- everything was ready, if she could only reach the Shard now. Even her hands had stopped shaking for once. She was ready. She nodded.

Kaidan signaled the pilot. The shuttle lowered on the bay’s space ramp. Light from the window cut away leaving them in the dim florescence of the shuttle’s single overhead fixture. In the corner, Kaidan’s armor rattled as the shuttle’s engine rumbled into forward propulsion.

“Just us again?” Shepard asked him.

“Saves money on plaques.” Kaidan gripped the handle overhead.

Shepard gave him a sharp look, but he gazed back neutrally.

“This won’t end like that,” Shepard said. “We can’t control the Shard shattering, but we can control other outcomes. Live to fight another day, right?”

Kaidan’s eyes narrowed on her. “Why do you keep talking about the Shard shattering?”

“Just airing possibilities. I’m just saying it’s more important to stay safe. You can always get another Shard.” She changed the topic quickly. “About the plan though. How’s Wrex getting his ship to the relay without the krogan ships attacking him? If they’re Wreav’s men, then they’re probably here waiting for him, right?”

Kaidan stared at her a long second. Shepard thought he might return to the conversation about the Shard, but instead he looked away and sighed. “I don’t think they’re waiting for  _ him _ . Wrex was displaced as clan chief. He isn’t a krogan enemy. I’m sure if confronted, Wreav would claim his men in the Tosha Caves weren’t after Wrex then either.”

“After us?” Shepard stood and grabbed the handle over her head. She faced Kaidan, but he didn’t answer. “That’s why we came in slow? Had the two flight plans? You knew the krogan would be tipped off about our movement.”

Kaidan only eyed her, the shuttle jostling them. His grip on the handle overhead steadied him.

“You’re not going to talk to me?” she asked.

“Just think it’s odd timing. A secret dormant relay that only clan leaders know of. Yet here they are camped out. Waiting. Someone told them.”

“You think Cicero’s behind it?”

“I don’t know. Is he?”

Shepard grumbled a string of curses under her breath. “Come on! You still think I’m working with him?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem too concerned about the mission’s objective. Twice now, you’ve mentioned the Shard shattering. Do you really know what you’re doing?”

“Of course!” Shepard’s teeth clenched.

Kaidan’s eyes lingered on her face, then he looked away. “Not the sense I’m getting. If you’re so sure, why give me the repeating disclaimer?”

“Just in case,” Shepard repeated hotly.

“Didn’t think Commander Shepard operated on ‘just in case I lose’.” Kaidan turned his shoulder to her. “But then, I don’t know Admiral Shepard. Maybe that changed?”

Shepard’s face set. “You can’t control every variable. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, right?”

“I thought your motto was ‘win at all costs’?”

Their eyes locked. The shuttle heaved around them, and the cold chill of space seeping into the shuttle’s interior.

*** 

Shepard and Kaidan watched the Alliance shuttle disappear from the krogan ship’s cargo bay. It lowered out of sight on a ramp and shook the floor when it accelerated to return to the Normandy. The smell of mold saturated the air and gave the dim, narrow cargo bay a decaying feel. Rust crusted off the wall. Tarnished crates stacked all the way to the ceiling. The ceiling was too low for the sloppy stacks to rise much higher than three crates.

In the center of the bay, a hulking, rattletrap-looking shuttle was on stilts for undercarriage service checks. The shuttle’s insignia showed it was a Thresher V series shuttle. That made Shepard smile. Only a few weeks ago, she’d flown one down the main thoroughfare in Tuchanka’s capitol during a parade. That wasn’t likely to happen in this timeline. 

Shepard drummed her fingers on the helmet tucked under her arm and turned around in a circle. Rust, mildew, dusty surfaces, stale air. The floor was so brittle and stained, if not for the massive weight of krogan as reassurance, she worried it might break beneath her.

“Your krogan armada isn’t as up to date as all your bluster, Wrex.”

Wrex came forward with two krogan shadows at his back. Kaidan gazed around them at the rank decor with the same expression Shepard was feeling.

“You base that on this old merc ship?” Wrex tapped her shoulder with the back of his hand. “Yes. Tell your little admirals this is all we have. Ha.”

Kaidan had his helmet off and tucked her his arm. He glared at Wrex.

“Still out of sorts, Alenko?” Wrex grinned, showing sharp, yellow teeth.

The two krogan hulking behind Wrex were the same ones from the caves. How many krogan Wrex had aboard this junker, Shepard wasn’t sure. 

“How’s this going to work, Wrex?” Shepard asked. “No surprises this time?”

Wrex’s grin pulled deeper. “None this time. That’s why I came with the Normandy. To help. Making it up to you. Right, Alenko?”

“This will help you, too, Wrex,” Shepard said. “Alenko can vouch for how you tried to help us get the Shard.”

“ _ Tried _ to help us?” Kaidan looked sideways at her.

“How you helped us get the Shard,” Shepard corrected.

“Why am I the one vouching for him in front of the Council? What about you?” Kaidan said suspiciously.

Shepard ignored him and focused on Wrex. “This will look good for you and help an appeal for peace. You gave up a krogan secret to help the Alliance restore the Sol System.”

“When the krogan learn, they will not like it. Council had better come through with their debt.”

“We discussed tentative plans. I’m sure the Council will see the value in finding some middle ground.”

“Hope so, Shepard.” Wrex waved over one of the krogan standing behind him. “Turk. He can fly the shuttle for you. We’re approaching the relay. Position just right. Energy leak. The other three ships won’t see a thing.”

“How’re we getting back?” She planned a different way back for herself, a private moment with all the ingredients, but Kaidan needed to get back safely.

“Same way.” Wrex shrugged.

That didn’t sound thought out enough. Shepard opened her mouth, but a screech of metal cut her off. The elevator doors behind Wrex split open, and green-colored krogan lept out.

“Urdnot Wrex!”

Wrex grumbled and took rumbling steps toward the elevator to talk to the newcomer. Turk eyed Shepard and Kaidan then backed away. He and the other one, Chedur, as she remembered it, circled Wrex.

Shepard turned to Kaidan. “Listen. Stay here on the ship. I’ll retrieve the Shard. I’m not too confident in Wrex’s return plan. It won’t take long for the other ships to wonder about that energy leak.”

Kaidan twisted his helmet around idly in his fingertips. “If Wrex draws them away from the relay, the Normandy can collect us for the return. Let’s just play it by ear.” 

“Let me do it. You stay here.”

“So sure you won’t need me, eh? What happened to the ‘just in case’ of you falling off the bridge?”

“I feel very spry today.”

“Kind of like having a good hair day?” Kaidan lifted an eyebrow, still turning the helmet in his fingers. “No. I’m coming.”

“Shepard!” Wrex barked and stormed toward them.

“What’s going on?”

“Wreav.” Wrex’s red eyes glinted. “He’s on his way.”

“On his way? He’s aboard one of those ships?”

“Came himself, it seems. Says he’s looking for the enemy. Called me a traitor.”

Lights flashed around the bay. The three krogan behind Wrex grimaced at each other.

“That’s the docking light,” Kaidan said. “He’s docking right now?”

“Wants to search my ship.”

“And you’re letting him?” Kaidan snapped.

An alarm wailed overhead in tempo with the flashing lights. The shuttle ramp creaked. Kaidan’s eyes darted around them.

“What the hell, Wrex?” Shepard said.

“It was that or turn around and run. He’d follow. He’d know I was hiding something then. We’re close to the relay. We got stopped too far away, but we’re still close. Let him look, then leave. Plan goes on.”

“Wait. We’re not even in range?” Shepard said. “At least, get us in range to block them seeing a transfer. If we can--”

The cargo bay shivered under their feet. Metal ratcheted as the shuttle ramp lifted something from below.

“We had to stop here. His ships won’t let us further. Can’t be helped.” Wrex waved at the rows of crates around them. “Only two of you. You’re small. Hide. No big deal.”

“And if they find us?” Kaidan said.

Wrex eyed him. “Hide good.”

Blood flushed Kaidan’s face, and he took a step toward Wrex. Shepard caught his arm.

“Let’s go. We can kill Wrex later.” 

Wrex’s laugh boomed around them.

“Seriously, Wrex,” Shepard hissed. “After this, I’m kicking your ass. There had to be another way.”

“No other way. Hide.”

The top of a shiny metal shuttle lifted from the floor. Shepard darted behind a tower of rusty shipping containers while fumbling with the helmet still under her arm. Kaidan hunched behind the crate across from her, face stormy, and his glance sharp. The metal floor groaned beneath her feet. She tried to hold still.

The shinny shuttle settled into place flush with the cargo bay floor. The door flung open. It had been twelve years since she saw Wreav. Hearing his voice was like hearing a ghost.

“Urdnot Wrex!” Wreav jumped out of the shuttle and rattled dust off the walls. Shepard counted the krogan inside the shuttle with a sinking heart. Six, armor polished and upgraded Tsunami VI assault rifles in their arms. The small open space in the cargo hold was a tight fit for so many.

“What are you doing here, Wreav?”

“Came to ask you that, Wrex. Got a tip. Heard Alliance enemies were on their way to this asteroid.”

“Asteroid?” Wrex chuckled.

“Asteroid,” Wreav said firmly. He glanced at the krogan horde surrounding them and gave Wrex a pointed look. “No reason Alliance should be interested in an asteroid. Not unless someone sold clan secrets.”

“I’m not like you, Wreav.”

“Nothing truer’s been said.” Wreav stepped into Wrex’s space, their teeth bared centimeters apart. “Always had mixed loyalty to Shepard, the enemy. Alliance was spotted around Kurich. So was your ship.”

“Hunting Alliance myself.”

“My ship went silent. Found her remains in orbit.”

“Not my problem. Let’s get this over with, Wreav,” Wrex said. “We’re here to guard the asteroid too. Got the same tip as you.”

“Urdnot Wrex, you’re hiding something.” Wreav craned his head and looked around the bay.

Shepard pulled back. Across from her, Kaidan receded deeper into the shadow of his crate. An Omni-Tool light flashed past the gap between their crates. The metal floor creaked under Shepard’s boots again. She muttered a curse under breath and stood still, barely breathing. Her eyes caught on the problem under her boot. She was standing on a panel in the floor, slotted like a vent. It didn’t seem to like her weight. 

“What are all these crates for?” Wreav said.

“Empty. Mostly. You wanting a tour of the ship or not, Wreav?”

“A self-guided one.”

Shepard peeked around the corner. Wreav’s men had their rifles pointed at Wrex’s men. Wreav pulled his eyes off Wrex and sniffed the air. His eyes glinted Shepard’s direction. She jerked back from the edge of the crate again. Kaidan unfolded his pistol and pressed his back against the crate.

“Engineering is off limits,” Wrex said. “Everything else, take your time.”

“Engineering?” Wreav’s voice had a sharp note.

“Sensitive equipment. Repairs underway, circuit boards open. No entry.”

Shepard couldn’t help the grin tickling her cheeks. Despite criticism of krogan as fools, Wrex was no fool. He knew the appeal of a forbidden area.

“We’re searching the  _ entire _ ship.”

“Check anywhere in here. Around and inside all these empty crates. Go ahead.”

“We will. Go.”

Metal creaked under the krogans’ weight as Wreav’s men moved among the crates. Kaidan’s finger tightened on the pistol. Shepard reached for her gun. The metal under her boots groaned with the shift of weight. This time she didn’t curse. She had an idea. She tore the vent panel out of the floor. It was loud. Kaidan’s eyes widened.

A pair of footsteps plodded their direction. Even with the rumbling engine and ambling weight of krogan bodies, one of Wreav’s men must have heard it. In the background, Wreav and Wrex’s voices barked back and forth arguing authority over the ship. The feet were still coming this way.

Shepard peered into the floor. Stale air hit her face. The space was tight but deep. Some sort of papery exhaust filter filled the bottom of the cavity. She tested it with a foot. Her boot went right through it. Heavy krogan breathing came with the nearing footsteps, both sounds like an ox. Light from an Omni-Tool brightened the space between their crates. It bounced in tempo with the footstep vibrations in the floor. 

Shepard set her helmet on the floor and stretched down into the hole. The paper filter crackled and ripping under her feet. She hit the solid floor. She was knee deep in the torn filter with the floor at her chin. She looked over at Kaidan. He eyed her from across the bright gap expanding between their crates. She put a palm up for him to wait.

A krogan shadow fell across the side of Kaidan’s crate, coming closer. Light expanded toward Kaidan’s feet. A rifle barrel appeared, lengthening. Kaidan put both hands on his pistol and readied on his haunches. Shepard pushed out with her energy. Blue light blazed in her vision. A pipe burst overhead. Liquid sprayed out in a mist. Alarms sounded. 

Shepard didn’t even need to signal Kaidan. The krogan turned toward the pipe, and Kaidan bolted past him. She grabbed at him. He squirmed in beside her, and she scooped the vent panel closed over their heads. It wouldn’t quite close. They were too crowded and bulky in their armor to pull it closed. She held it in place instead. It touched the top of their heads, and they barely breathed. Light flashed through the vent slots. The alarms were still ringing overhead. 

“Old ship,” Wrex laughed over the alarms.

Through the vent slots in the floor panel, a misty liquid sprinkled on their foreheads. The mist tickled into her lungs like a scratchy bottle brush. Kaidan’s face, centimeters from hers, pinched, probably feeling the same urge to cough it from his lungs.

“Fire retardant system activated,” one of the krogan yelled. “Pipe musta been the fuel line.”

Shepard looked sharply at Kaidan. She hadn’t paid attention to what she pulled. She just needed a distraction. Kaidan had seen the pipe though and shook his head.

“No,” he mouthed.

The krogan’s Omni-Tool light still brightened the vent slots. It wasn’t bright enough for him to be looking directly down at them, but the light was becoming brighter as if he was starting to sweep their direction. 

Shepard shifted on her cramped legs. Lungs burning, she held the vent panel in place over them and tried not to make a sound. Her armor ground against Kaidan’s plating, his helmet wedged uncomfortably between them, and the torn filter paper crumpled around them like fluffing in a nest. A very tight nest. Her eyes settled on Kaidan’s helmet again. She went cold. She had left her helmet on the floor by the crate. Kaidan caught her expression and frowned.

The Omni-Tool swung full in their direction. The slot above their heads blaze. The creaking footsteps of the krogan stopped. Shepard’s heart pounded. Something scraped against the ground beside the vent panel. From the lifting shadow she knew.

The krogan chuckled. “Found something!”

The ship rolled beneath them. Crates shifted overhead. Boots stumbled. Something hit the ground and rolled away, probably her helmet. Metal groaned around them. Kaidan was pressed so close, they didn’t move, while the rest of the ship shuddered around them. Frantic movement sounded overhead. 

The krogan standing over them growled. “Where did it--” 

“Everyone up deck!” Wrex bellowed. “Take the ladder. Go, go, go.”

The krogan’s desperate search for the helmet increased. He dropped to his knees, hands searching blindly all around, and coming their direction. He’d find the panel unlatched. Shepard held her breath.

“Now! Urix, where are you?” It was Wreav’s voice.

There was some Tuchanka cursing, but then the floor groaned under the krogan’s straightening weight. The light swept the other direction. Shepard could breath. The white chemical air choked Shepard’s lung to the point her eyes watered. Alliance ships no longer used this fire suppressant. Too noxious.

“Ha! There it is!” said the krogan directly over them. He stopped in place.

Shepard went numb. The helmet would be all Wreav needed for proof.

“Wreav!” The krogan scraped something off the floor and pounded away.

“Come on, Wreav!” Wrex yelled in the distance. “Let the system suppress it. We go before anything ignites.” 

“Wreav, look!”

It had to be her damn helmet.

“What? Let me -- This doesn’t look krogan.”

A digital voice spoke overhead. “Lock down initiated.”

“Cancel that!” Wrex roared so loudly, it was even loud where Shepard was hiding.

“Protocol, Wrex. Must vent the bay in a fire,” it was Wreav.

“Retardant’s enough. We’re not--”

“Hold him,” Wreav yelled. “Start the vent sequence.”

“No! You’ll-you’ll . . . lose the crates! Our shuttles getting serviced, not locked down for--”

“Lose crates? Ha! You’re worried about losing more than than! Look at yourself. Who’s helmet is this? Has a N7.”

“All set,” a krogan called.

“Let’s go. Get him in the elevator.”

“Cancel vent! Cancel--” Wrex’s voice cut off with a rumble and crash. Crates crashed, bodies hit the floor, and voices yelled over each other. Gunshots. The floor reverberated with heavy hits and rolling bodies. 

“Into the elevator,” Wreav said.

The elevator door screeched shut, and the sound cut away. Whatever fight had been underway, Wreav had succeeded in getting Wrex and his men into the elevator. The only sound now was the blaring alarm overhead and hiss of white retardant.

“They’re venting the bay.” Shepard threw off the vent panel and scrambled out. “We need to get to the shuttle. Everything’s getting spaced.”

She hauled Kaidan out of the pit, and springing on her heels, shot toward the shuttle. She dodged misty shapes in the flashing orange darkness, fallen crates and left out service equipment. She found Wreav’s shiny shuttle, locked to the ramp in the floor, safe from being lost out the cargo bay doors. She pulled at the door’s lever. Stuck. She pulled again and again. It wasn’t stuck, it was locked.

Shepard spun the other direction. Plan B. She darted to the rusty shuttle surrounded by tools and lifted on stilts for undercarriage work. She fumbled with gauntleted fingers to find the handle in the door. She found it.

The sirens sharpened suddenly. The pulsing light shifted red. It was the universal warning sequence she’d only heard in training simulations. A countdown. The cargo bay shook, hinges creaking to life at the corners, the floor moved. The bay was opening.

“Venting bay now,” a voice said.

She dragged the shuttle door open and turned back to the bay. 

“Kaidan? Kaidan!”

Movement. A helmet slammed down on her head. Locked. Kaidan shoved her into the shuttle. Space exploded around them. It sucked her into darkness, rolling and spinning. She slammed into metal walls like a marble shaken in a jar. She smacked her shoulder against objects she couldn’t see, banged into surfaces she couldn’t hear, and hit the shuttle ceiling over and over again. Body lifting, she floated. Everything was still spinning around her, or maybe she was the one spinning. Bright starburst blinded her vision and beyond the starbursts was only blackness extended outside the shuttle’s open door. Blood roared in her ears, her breathing out of control. She felt light-headed and sick.

She floated inside the shuttle, rotating without end, as open door flashed images of somersaulting crates, half torn apart and twisted, and odd bits of metal and bent plastics. A ship turned over and over in her vision, the distance lengthening between them, its carbo bay hatch wide-open still spilling its contents. 

Spaced. 

Breath escaped out her chest in a shudder. She screamed. Heart hammering, she clawed at her helmet, checked her oxygen hose, writhed against any itch in her under armor where leaking oxygen could be sucking it to her skin. Not again. Not again.

The oxygen hose wasn’t hissing in her ears though. The low oxygen alarm wasn’t blinking in her visor. She could breathe, and she did. She pulled it in frantically, and it kept coming with every gulp. Her face was wet, lips quivering, and she forced herself to focus on the shapes outside the spinning doorway. It wasn’t Alchera toppling around and around in her vision. She was inside a shuttle. There was only space and starlight around her. But she was inside a shuttle. She wasn’t spaced. 

“Kaidan.” Her voice broke through her lips rough and panting. “Kaidan?”

Only silence. She tried her comm again. And again. And again.

“Kaidan!”

Silence, and he wasn’t inside the shuttle. Even the crates, once rolling in her vision, were now pinpricks lost to space. Her blood went cold. She tried her comm again. Stars spiraled in the darkness before her. Turning and turning. 

She had forgotten about her helmet. The cargo bay was venting. Without it she’d be dead, but she’d forgotten it. Right now, she could be floating inside the shuttle with empty eye sockets of ice and a mouth frozen open in horror. Instead, Kaidan had found her helmet. He’d locked it on her head instead of getting into the shuttle himself. 

“Kaidan?”

He was gone. One instant he was squeezed up against her, their faces centimeters apart, breathing the same air and now . . . He had smelled like pine and fresh laundry soap just like her Kaidan. Now he was gone.

She tried the comm again.

Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just have to say, Wrex and Wreav's names are way too alike. If Wreav wasn't canon, I'd have named him Bob or something. Jk. But, seriously, it's confusing. Hopefully, you guys are smarter than me and actually have brains that read past the first three letters.


	12. Space

**CHAPTER 12: Space**

The shuttle spun with its side door open to the darkness of space. Shepard floated inside watching the stars streak across her vision and feeling further away with every revolution. Breath moistened the inside of her visor. Her ribs squeezed around her heart.

“Kaidan?” Her voice broke. 

She latched onto the ceiling handle. Hand over hand, she pulled herself toward the front of the shuttle, inertia sucking and tumbling her against the walls of the rotating shuttle. She snagged the pilot’s headrest. She hardened her muscles against the rolling pull of the shuttle and snapped herself into the seat. Space spinning in the front window made her stomach contract. 

Her hands trembled on the shuttle’s controls. The buttons lit up under her fingertips. Overhead lights blinked on, and alarms on the dash flared to life with blinking red symbols. This shuttle model was a bit older than the shuttle she’d flown in the Tuchanka parade, but the controls were the same. After all the teasing she’d incurred over a lifetime about not being able to drive shuttles, and here when she needed it, was one shuttle type she actually knew. She’d give it up to have the luck spent another way. 

The engine turned on, a low rumble in the metal flooring that she couldn’t hear. Stabilizers came online. The rolling spin slowed. She didn’t know how to seal the cabin, repressurize it, or activate gravitational control. She studied buttons and played with screens, but nothing looked right. It wasn’t worth guessing wrong.

The shuttle continued to slow its revolutions then steadied. It rocked slightly as it stabilized on its thrusters. Floating in her seat, Shepard strained against the seat restrains to better see the giant chunk of icy rock peeking out from the corner of the window. It flashed in her memory. She stood in another krogan shuttle, ducking her head down next to the pilot seat, and squinting through the glass at this same colossus. That had been weeks ago. 

Wrex’s ship was already smaller than the size of her hand. The cargo bay door was now closed. Pieces of metal dotted the darkness between them. The debris caught the light like falling stars. So much debris. Her fingers slipped off the thruster controls. He hadn’t been her Kaidan. He wasn’t real in the way that mattered. Yet, the pain felt as real as a blade through the throat. 

She pulled her mind away from it. She checked the electricity chip. It was still plugged into her Omni-Tool. The vial of eezo was in her hardsuit pocket. She fumbled to close the pocket and tried to focus on figuring out the propulsion controls. Her vision melted. She gasped into the darkness of her helmet and blinked back the dew stinging her eyes. She didn’t have to pretend anything now when she found the Shard. The important thing, returning home, was easier now, but . . . but . . . She sobbed. Kaidan . . .

She saw it through the watery sliver of her eyes. She lurched forward, seatbelt catching her, and used her finger to guide her vision. There! So small she almost couldn’t see it: a bit of blue light and flash of blue metal in the darkness. There was only one blue thing which had been in that cargo bay. Only one thing that made glowed blue. Her fingers flew over the dash. She gulped wet breaths, straightening herself in her seat, and leaned forward as the thrusters ignited. The shuttle shot forward.

She tried to slow as she neared, but the brakes were too sensitive. The shuttle guttered. She cursed and pounded the dash, but the shuttle was stubborn and wouldn’t turn on again. She let it drift toward the rotating wreckage in front of her. The gnarled remains of a crate reflected light back at her. As it rotated, she saw the blue armor. The biotic light was gone. She’d only seen it in that flash when still far away, but there was movement. The armor was writhing. He was alive. His arm was caught in the torn, twisted remains of the crate. 

“Kaidan?” She tried her comm, but there was only silence.

Her comm’s antennae must have been damaged in the evac. The shuttle coasted closer. Shepard tore off her seat belt and floated into the back of the shuttle. The door was still wide open to space. Shepard dug in her utility belt and pulled out the blue cord that had already saved her once with the Tog. She tied it to one of the ceiling grips and pushed herself to the doorway of the shuttle. 

Endless darkness engulfed her vision in all directions. Her heartbeat rose. Alchera glowed in the distance, a defect in her vision she knew wasn’t there but which she couldn’t unsee. Kaidan’s form thrashed against the torn remains of the crate. The shuttle was drifting further away now. Every second she hesitated, the distance was growing between them. Soon it would be too far. 

Shepard shoved herself out the doorway with a burst of momentum meant to reach the gnarled crate. It was further than she realized. She was nearing the end of the cord when she bumped against the jagged metal crate. Her arm jerked back with the cord ripping a sharp pain into her healing shoulder. She snared the edge of the crate and got a firm hold.

She spun with the crate. The cord went taut in her hand as she reached around the ripped metal. She grabbed Kaidan’s leg. His thrashing stopped. He froze. Shepard pulled herself up his body with the cord wrapped around her wrist. She reached his helmet and peered through the two panes of frosted glass. He locked eyes with her, and a plume of vapor escaped his mouth. His eyes were enormous.

She felt along his bicep to where it was pinched in the warped metal of the crate. He had reached across his body and clenched his free hand over his armor at the point of contact. She moved his finger enough that under the light pressure of her gloved fingers, she could see the indenting crack in the armor. A hairline fracture. It would be just the beginning. His hand tightened back over the crack. He shook his head frantically, eyes wide and white with emphasis. His armor’s seal was compromised. He was holding the armor in a fixed position to prevent the crack separating.

“Kaidan?”

His eyes flashed down to her lips then back up to her eyes. He shook his head again emphatically. She needed to get him free from the crate, but lifting the crate’s pressure off the fissure in his armor would break the crack wide open. He’d lose his seal. 

The cord strained her arm backward. She had to fight it to keep hold of Kaidan and the crate. It dragged them with the shuttle drift. There wasn’t time to waste.

She examined where the crate pinched the cracking armor. Replacing the crate’s pinching pressure with pressure between her hands could be enough to hold the crack together and prevent it splitting further. The armor wouldn’t separate if she could hold the tension in place.

Shepard stared hard through Kaidan’s visor. He searched her eyes. He couldn’t know her plan, but after a moment, he released a long breath and nodded. She flipped up her Omni-blade. His eyes flickered to it. Pulling some slack from the cord, she slid his hand aside and gripped the crack in his armor with one hand. She hesitated. If the seal broke, he’d have a worse death than she had with a broken oxygen hose over Alchera. He met her eyes. He nodded again.

Her Omni-blade sawed through the metal without a sound. In the emptiness of space, it felt surreal and removed. She clung to Kaidan’s arm for leverage, sawing back and forth, the teeth of the serrated blade catching on the jagged metal of the crate. The shuttle tugged at her Omni-Tool arm, but she strained against it. The blade was making it through the metal better than she hoped.

She pinched Kaidan’s arm tighter, trying to keep the pressure between with her free hand and the inside of her Omni-Tool arm. Kaidan fumbled to help with his free hand, but at this point, his reach only made the crack stretch wider. She pushed his hand back and shook her head at him.

The metal pinning his arm shifted and started to break apart. She wrapped both hands around Kaidan’s bicep and held it in a vice as the crate started to break away. She worked the armor back and forth steadily and slow, the metal letting go bit by bit. It released.

The gravitational snap of suddenly losing the crate’s mass sent them spinning in space. The cord caught on the ragged metal edge of the crate and tore from Shepard’s fingers. She gasped. It streamed behind the shuttle carrying the twisted metal crate with it, the only way back to the shuttle and Home. The cord was still within reach, but Kaidan’s broken armor was sealed between her hands. She could still stretch to reach the cord if she let go. 

Shepard clutched Kaidan’s armor tighter between her hands. They spun like a rolling pin in the darkness, end over end, the cord slipping further away. Kaidan’s free arm locked around her waist and held her against him. Their visors pressed glass to glass. Flashes of metal and the streak of far off stars rolled around the edges of her vision. Kaidan stared straight into her eyes, his breathing fast based on the moist blooms widening at the bottom of his visor. His arm held her so tight to his chest, her ribs pinched in her armor.

If this was how she had died above Alchera, it never would have given nightmares. All those years of lonely nights waking up in the darkness in a cold sweat, unable to catch her breath, shaking in the sheets. That was blind terror and pain, but this was peaceful. Spinning in space, face to face with his honest brown eyes, feeling the pressure of his arm around her, it was okay. Knowing he wasn’t alone for this, if it was meant for him, made it all right. Her heart beat slower and softened. No, this wouldn’t have given her nightmares. 

But dying like this was never meant for Kaidan. It had always been meant for her to be the one above Alchera dying alone. He was meant to be safe in the escape pod. She’d have it no other way. This was no exception. This wasn’t supposed to be his fate. She hadn’t let him die then. She wouldn’t let him die now.

The shuttle was growing smaller taking the blue cord and torn metal crate with it. Shepard flared and concentrated on the shuttle itself. If She Pulled the blue cord or metal crate, the barreling mass and inertia of the shuttle would win. She strained to reach the shuttle itself, to stop it or Pull it, but it was useless. The shuttle was already too far away. They were rolling too fast, and she couldn’t use her hands to concentrate her energy. She considered using a biotic barrier to hold Kaidan’s suit from breaking, which would free her hand, but even the slightest mistake could break the seal. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Kaidan’s biotic energy crackled against her. A blue corona lifted off his armor. He spread the fingers of his hand making the armor pop under Shepard’s tight grip. The shuttle was large and far away, drifting further each minute. She could feel him straining, but it wasn’t working. Neither of them could reach it. At least, neither of them alone. 

She had an idea. She closed her eyes and pushed her energy outward. Kaidan’s energy was familiar, almost as familiar as her own, and she knew the way. Deeper and deeper, she drove her energy to the core of him. His body jerked. Walls of energy pushed back at her, but she was already there: their energies merged. She funneled her energy into him. 

Kaidan erupted like a star. His energy struck the shuttle like an explosion. The shuttle flashed blue and yanked backward. It spun toward them, scrapping the crate and cord up against its side. It was coming fast, but the angle was a bit off. It was going to clip their boots and pass right by them. 

“The cord.” She mouthed the words.

The shuttle brushed past their feet. Kaidan, still on fire like a torch, splayed his fingers. His energy flared. The blue cord tore away from the serrated edge of the crate with such force it blew the metal apart. Pieces of crate flew away in all directions. Kaidan caught the end of the cord in his hand. The cord dragged them into the shuttle’s strong tow. Kaidan released Shepard’s waist and reeled them hand-over-hand into the shuttle’s open doorway.

Inside the shuttle, Shepard clung to his arm, keeping the pressure on his cracked armor like a wound. Kaidan studied the shuttle’s open doorway. He tried to get traction holding a ceiling grip and pulling at it, but it wouldn’t give. It was rusted, and floating in space, there wasn’t enough force to budge it. Kaidan gave up. Shepard nodded toward the pilot’s seat.

The cabin wasn’t pressurized, and she couldn’t let go of Kaidan’s armor. It was awkward fitting into the pilot’s seat. She stretched across Kaidan’s chest, both of them floating, and Kaidan strained to reach the controls across her. The buttons lit up. The engine came online. Metal vibrated against Shepard’s elbow where she touched the shuttle wall. 

The shuttle door moved in her peripheral vision and shut on some command from the dashboard. Kaidan glanced over his shoulder as if to confirm he’d pushed the right button, and the door had shut. A krogan shuttle wasn’t like Alliance or civilian models. Shepard knew that much. Kaidan’s fingers hesitated on the controls as if unsure of the next move. If only she could speak. She knew what to do. 

Movement in space drew Shepard’s eyes to the window in front of them. Two shuttles were coming directly at them, krogan-make with shiny hulls, one several kilometers ahead of the other. Shepard twisted to look at Kaidan, who was intently studying the dash controls. His eyes shifted to her face then followed her pointed look to the window ahead of them. His eyes expanded and breath fogged the visor.

His attention snapped back to the controls in a frantic urgency. He hesitated over the buttons then reached for a black key on the left side of the dash. The wrong button. Shepard kicked his hand back from it with her boot. He gave her a sharp frown.

She drew on her biotics, still holding tight to his arm with both hands, and focused her energy on his gauntlet. Blue energy flared across his hand. His frown deepened. He resisted her pull. He needed to push the yellow button at the bottom of the console if he wanted to start the thrusters, but he wasn’t letting her guide his hand.

The shuttles were nearly on them and already slowing to intercept them. Kaidan stared at them, frozen. Shepard jabbed his chest with her elbow and Pulled at his gauntlet with more insistence. He recoiled from her glare, and the tension in his fingers softened. His wrist loosened. Shepard led his index finger to the bottom yellow button, pushed it, then moved up and to the left where there was a dial, adjusted it. She lead his finger to the blinking ignition symbol in the center of the screen. 

The krogan shuttles coasted toward them, meters from connecting. Krogan faces peered through the window at them. Wreav’s head ducked next to the pilot’s headrest. His grin spread, staring right at her. Shepard jabbed Kaidan’s finger on the ignitor.

The shuttle shot forward. It hit the closest incoming shuttle, sending spinning it aside. Shepard pushed the shuttle to full speed. The inertia drove Shepard backward against Kaidan’s chest. Kaidan seemed to know what to do with the shuttle's controls from here. He jostled her aside, leaned forward, and turned the shuttle a sharp left to avoid the second shuttle streaking toward them.

Three krogan starships had Wrex’s ship surrounded. The one closest to their shuttle brightened with online thrusters. Canons on the front flared to life with red lights blinking around the barrels. The second shuttle was still on their tail and closing right on them. Kaidan maneuvered their shuttle in a sharp turn. Their shuttle’s bulky metal nose caught the left side of the other shuttle and scrapped a long streak to its tail. One good thing about a bulky, older shuttle type. The damage of the shiny new shuttle wasn’t just cosmetic. The nose of their shuttle clipped off the back edge of their vessel and tore a thruster cell along with it. Kaidan didn’t take time to celebrate and steered the shuttle back around.

Kaidan spread his hands across the dash in a series of quick keystrokes. The asteroid filled the window in front of them: the ultimate goal. Its pock-marked rock was crusted over with great sheets of ice. It was pitted and hollow-looking. It looked nothing like a relay as it hadn’t in the other timeline either. 

A burst of light shook the shuttle. The krogan ship was firing on them. Kaidan’s fingers flew across the controls. The shuttle dropped and twisted away from another burst. The asteroid was in front of them, but still too far. Kaidan drove toward a massive pit in the ice. If they could reach it, there would be places to hide. Another explosion of light rocked the shuttle. Alarm buttons blinked across the dash. Another flash of laser fire. The krogan star ship was closing in on them. They are too far away from the asteroid to ever make it. Not at this rate of laser fire. 

A shadow moved over them. Somehow one of the ships had come up behind them. Shepard’s heart rate spikes. Their shuttle would be hit point blank. Even the most armored shuttles didn’t survive that! Light flared around them. Laser fire. But it didn’t hit them. Shepard’s breath was still clenched in her chest. The ship over top of them had fired but . . . The shape overhead unfolded between them and the krogan ship pursuing them. A massive bright hull reflected the letters N-O-R. Shepard released a clenched breath. The Normandy had been firing at the krogan ship, not them.

If Kaidan was hoping for the Normandy to pick up their shuttle, it wouldn’t be possible with the dueling laser fire and tense movements of the ships. Kaidan steered toward the asteroid. They were getting close. Their shuttle shot into the icy rock chasm in front of them. 

The chasm went deep. The silvery rock closed in around them. Metal glittered through the ice, and the low tug of biotic forces tickled Shepard’s skin. A tremor started in her fingertips. Another episode of shaking, like she’d been getting on the Normandy in the mess hall. Bad timing. 

The shuttle slowed, dropping in altitude, and turned left into a dark stretch of tunnels off the main chasm. The tunnel darkened and narrowed as they swept in slowly barely skimming the icy ground. The icicled roof constricted down on them, and they couldn’t go any further without scraping the walls. Kaidan settled the shuttle on the floor of the tunnel.

He brought up the ladar screen. The tunnel was empty ahead and behind them, at least, for now. She floated over Kaidan’s lap. She half-expected Kaidan to shove around her and drag her into the back of the shuttle to search for a sealing kit. Instead, he looked her in the eye for a long moment then brought up the orange screen on his Omni-Tool. 

She thought he was going to message her, but rather, he searched through a tech database. He checked the krogan shuttle’s spec listed under the dash and brought up a manual on the screen of his Omni-Tool. He skimmed through it and stopped on operation of the gravitational system and atmospheric evacuation controls. He moved through the screen on his ‘Tool and punched buttons on the dash. A settling weight grew in Shepard’s limbs.

A rush of gas escaped outside the window and air swirled in the cabin. Shepard’s body sank onto Kaidan’s lap. Environmental oxygen levels rose on the scale in the corner of her visor. An alarm light overhead flipped from red to green. Gravity and oxygen readings were stable based on the readings displayed on Kaidan’s Omni-Tool.

Slowly, Shepard released Kaidan’s arm. The armor split, a sharp crack she could hear in the restored atmosphere. The fissure spread up Kaidan’s bicep all the way to his shoulder. He moved his arm only slightly and a piece of armor the size of Shepard’s thumb splintered off. The broken chunk fell rattling on the floor.

Kaidan reached to remove his helmet. She was still on his lap and stumbled to her feet with legs that felt like jelly. Her helmet was less easy to remove. Her hair was caught in the collar’s sealing mechanism from Kaidan slamming the helmet over her head before the bay evacuated. With effort, she pulled off the helmet. The return of sound and ability to breathe room air drained the tension coiled inside of her. She found an armor sealant kit in the back of the shuttle next to some Medigel packs.

“Kaidan.” She tossed it to him.

He was rising from the pilot’s seat and caught it reflexively but numbly. It rolled out of his fingers and hit the floor. Shepard lurched after it. Kaidan moved to the back of the shuttle and slid to the floor, one hand holding the wall, and the other covering his mouth. Shepard watched him carefully and tore open the kit. The krogan had stocked the shuttle well and there was more than enough cement in the kit for what she needed. 

She knelt beside him and took his arm with the still-spreading fissure. He was trembling. He stared past her shoulder with glassy eyes. Shepard pulled her gauntlets off and touched his cheek: cool and clammy. He didn’t react.

“Kaidan. Hey.”

She moved her face into his line of vision, but he stared straight through her. His cheek was against her palm, and she traced his grainy cheekbone with the pad of her thumb back and forth, slowly. Suddenly, she was floating alone in the shuttle again, looking out at the darkness, and something deep inside her was dead knowing he was gone.

“Is that how you felt being spaced?” he whispered. 

“Over Alchera? My oxygen line broke. It was quick.”

“Suffocating in the darkness?” he murmured. She had to lean in to hear him. “Just spinning.”

She had been spinning, darkness closing in around her, pain sharpening in her lungs. Alchera, a bright white globe, strobed in her vision while she struggled to breathe and clawed at her hose.

“That was . . .” Her voice gave out. She tried again with more strength in it. “That was a long time ago.”

“Feels like yesterday. To me.” The crease between his eyes deepened. He searched her eyes.

She leaned toward him, and his jaw tensed under the thumb. She rested her cheek against the side of his face. His skin felt cool and bloodless, smelling of sweat and _him_. She rustled her fingers into the hair at the nap of his neck and held his head tight against her face. His breath fanned across her jaw, slowing and loosening. His eyelashes tickled her temple with each soft blink. The tremble in his body ebbed away. 

Shepard listened to their breathing slow and in sync and focused on the feel of his skin soft against her face. Even in a cold sweat, he was the best thing she’d ever smelled. She smiled softly. When she’d first leaned in, his body tensed. Had he thought she was going to kiss him? 

“Are you all right?” she whispered against his ear.

He shivered. It wasn’t like the cold trembling from earlier. Just one deep shiver. His breathing quickened, and he pulled back from her with a guarded expression. Shepard drew her hand from his cheek and picked up the sealant kit.

“Let’s get you space worthy again.” She grabbed his arm.

*** 

They crunched through the icy tunnels of the asteroid. The walls were beginning to look more like the inner corridors of a relay. Under the ice, bronze metal caught the light from their helmets.

“How do you know the way?” The light from Kaidan’s helmet flashed Shepard’s direction.

Gravity was starting to grow the deeper they got into the relay. Each clomping step in the grav boots felt more solid. They’d left the shuttle behind and moved into the tunnel passageway crusted with ice and dark as space. 

“Did the cipher tell you this?” he pressed, his voice staticy on the comm.

Shepard was glad Kaidan had a makeshift fix for the antennae on her helmet, but the questions were starting to grate on her. 

“Yes, the cipher,” she said absently.

Light bounced around the tunnel ahead of them, lit by helmet beams and light from their Omni-Tools.

“Each relay has the same layout? The unfinished one on Elliom? Sol’s? This one?”

“Absolutely.”

How Sol’s relay was laid out, she didn’t have a clue. She’d never been there. Elliom she remembered, but she had been a rat discovering a maze then. The last relay she had entered was this one. It had been quite different. An entourage of security guards and important krogan officials had escorted her and Ambassador Mason through the prelit tunnels to the core. She hoped she was remembering the way correctly now in the dark and ice. Kaidan’s feet faltered besider. The screen on his Omni-Tool showed video from their shuttle: ice and stone but also movement.

“Krogan behind us, back at our shuttle. Look,” Kaidan said.

“What?” Shepard scrunched closer to him to see the screen. The screen flashed and dropped into blank static.

“They took out the shuttle’s camera.”

“Any chance it’s Wrex or his buddies?”

“If Wreav is one of his buddies, then, yeah.”

“Doubt Wreav and Wrex made up that fast.” Shepard’s helmet light illuminated the tunnel behind them: crystalized snow and a dragging trail of grav boot footprints along the floor. Easy to follow. “Let’s turn off our grav boots. We can pull ourselves along using the wall.”

“They’re going to be charging along the trail we’ve left.” Kaidan waved at it. “We’ve been picking our way carefully. Fifteen minutes they’ll be on us.”

“They’ll lose us without a trail.” Shepard clomped five meters ahead to a four-way intersection in the tunnel network. “Here. There’s only a one third chance they’ll choose the correct direction.”

“They’ll split up,” Kaidan said. “If we’re dragging ourselves along the tunnel wall, we won’t be going fast. They’ll overtake us. No contest.”

Shepard tapped her thigh impatiently with a pinched frown. She flashed her light around the tunnel. “You bring any grenades?”

“Are you kidding?” he said flatly.

“Well, then, what’s your idea? You must have one, you’re shooting mine down so hard.”

Kaidan waved at the three choices ahead of them. “Which is the right direction?”

Shepard pointed straight ahead.

“Turn off your grav boots,” Kaidan said and cut right, dragging his heels and crushing the frosted ground with elaborately heavy steps. Perhaps it was to mimic the trail of two people.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll go right.”

“Right’s not correct. I pointed forward.”

“Hey. You said you can extract the Shard alone. I’m just here to make sure you get the chance.”

“And once I have it? What happens to you?”

“I’ll keep them away. Lead them the wrong way. After you have the Shard, get back to the shuttle. For some reason I can’t fathom, you actually know how to drive that junker. I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point.”

“And when the krogan get frustrated you’ve been leading them in circles? They’ll shoot you, you realize that.”

“Bullet’s better than being spaced. Look, if they catch me, I’ll emphasize my value as a hostage. I’m a fleet admiral and Spectre. That’s valuable.”

Wreav wasn’t going to make any deals with the Alliance or Council. He didn’t need the leverage of a hostage. Kaidan’s only value as a hostage was in helping them track her down in this maze. If Wreav couldn’t get that out of him . . .

“I might need your help with the Shard. Come one.” Shepard turned her grav boots off and drifted straight ahead. She snagged a crusty hold on the wall and looked back at him.

He had already disappeared to the right. His voice came over the comm. “Just go, Shepard. We’re wasting time.”

Shepard ground her teeth and dragged herself around the corner to look down the corridor after him. He plodded along as if her helmet beam wasn’t spotlighting him from behind. Shepard flared blue and put out her hand. The tunnel shook. Kaidan stopped and looked up. Ice broke loose over head. Shepard slammed more energy at the crusted layers of ice in front of him. Ice fell in a heavy cloud. Kaidan stumbled back from the avalanche and raised a biotic shield. Chunks of ice and rock rippled off his shield.

“The hell. Shepard!” He spun around.

“Turn off your grav boots and follow me. Look at it. A trail leading right up to a mound of ice. They’ll think we brought that down to block them following. It’ll take forever to move.”

“Stop forcing everything your way.” He jabbed a finger at her.

“I had the better idea. It wins. Come on. Thought you were worried about wasting time.”

***

“Stop looking. They’re not coming,” Shepard said.

They took careful steps on the thick ice sheet and ducked through the narrowing passageway. The gravity had increased to the point, it felt spacecraft standard. They were getting close. The tremor in her fingertips stretched past her knuckles now.

“They could be behind us,” Kaidan muttered. “We don’t know.”

“Have you tried calling the Normandy again?”

“You think deeper into the asteroid, the signal is more likely to get through?” Kaidan scoffed.

The corners of Shepard’s lips twitched up in a grin. She glanced back at him. “Still mad I vetoed your martyrdom?”

“Martyr? My plan was they wouldn’t catch you. I’d lead them away. Now . . .” 

“All of that to save the Shard?” Shepard eyed him. “Why does it matter so much?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned and fell in behind her with a sudden pinch in the tunnel’s width. “Why wouldn’t it matter? It matters to humanity, the Alliance. It should matter to you. For you it may be hard to believe, but not everyone has a selfish motive.”

“I suppose not.” They walked in silence for a bit, crunching footsteps and slipping feet. She looked back at him. “You really want to be reassigned to Earth?”

“I’m not doing it for appearances or power,” he snapped.

The testy snip in his voice was familiar. It meant she’d pushed him too far. It wasn’t long ago they’d been in Tuchanka’s capitol on her Councilor’s tour, laying in bed, with a fire crackling. An actual honest to God fire. It burned in the stone hearth beside them. She’d pushed him too far then, into using the same snapping tone he was using now. His breath had been warm on her ear, his nose pressed to her cheek. 

She had asked him over and over again about the slaver’s information from Delta Major. Every detail mattered, and she needed to be certain. If the attack came from the direction Kaidan said, it meant the attack had inside information on the colony. The Shadow Broker leak could be true. Kaidan had repeated he was certain about the direction of the attack. Did the slavers really attack the bunkers first? They knew about the farms to the south and struck them too? Her mind had been reeling while his lips moved down her throat. And she asked him again about the direction. It couldn’t be right. He’d finally snapped at her and sat up on his elbow.

_“I said it three times. If you’d rather be with my Spectre report than me, by all means.”_ He’d flipped a datapad at her with the report and stood up. 

Now, she’d give anything to be beside the fireplace in Tuchanka: bed smelling of dust and chemicals, musty animal fur against her skin, fire crackling and tainting the air with smoke, and the firelight dancing across Kaidan’s bare back as he walked away.

“This is a dead end.” Kaidan waved at the metal wall ahead of them. It broke her out of the memories.

Shepard shined her Omni-Tool light ahead. The beam shook with the tremor in her hand but illuminated symbols engraved into the metal under the glassy ice. Some work with her Omni-blade exposed the lettering. The krogan had forced this open for her ahead of time when she came as Councilor with her entourage, but it didn’t need forced. She’d seen this same script inside the relay on Elliom.

Sheprad closed her eyes and touched the metal with her palm. Ancient memories touched her mind like they had on Elliom. She felt the energies move and expand inside the wall. The metal shifted under her glove, and she opened her eyes. The metal wall slid aside. The massive atrium it exposed was breathtaking. It always was.

It was larger and higher than most sports stadiums. A misty beam of white light shined vertically from somewhere far overhead and disappeared into a black chasm in the center of the enormous space. Lining the wall around the chasm circled a wide stretch of crystalized snow. Thin metal bridges frosted with ice rose up from the walls of the chasm and spanned the blackness below. They met together at a narrow ring of metal that encircled the beam of light in the center. 

A black stone rotated in the misty light above the ring of metal. Shepard’s heart pounded. The Shard was only a sliver from this distance, the size of her hand up close, but she could see it clearly hanging in the misty white beam. Black. It hadn’t been touched by the red light from the Crucible. It was perfect.

“There it is,” Kaidan whispered coming in beside her. He stared up at the snowy beam of light in the distance. The way he glanced sideways at her and smiled made her heart sink. “You did it, Shepard. You got us here. What about the door behind us? Can you close it?”

Shepard shook her head absently. “No, I . . .”

She felt sick. This was the moment she’d been dreading. They were about to fail, and he thought they’d won.

Kaidan waited then finally motioned at the open wall behind them. “You can’t?” 

“No,” Shepard said absently. “I’m not sure how.”

The Shard lingered in her vision, so far away, but so close. Her heart had been pounding before but now it felt like a deflating balloon going flat beneath her ribs.

She stepped out onto the sheet of ice that looped the chasm. “Kaidan?”

“Yeah?” He walked out beside her.

“Tell me why you really want that Shard.”

He frowned. “I did.”

“Is it because of your daughter?”

Kaidan’s posture stiffened. Shepard rushed to speak first.

“She’s on this side of the Sol relay, Kaidan. You’re on the same side as her now. That means something. You’re not stranded apart.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“If something happens. If we can’t restore Sol relay. You’ll be all right. You’re on the right side of it now. The Council and krogan have started peace talks. You can foster that. There are other Shards from other relays and being on this side you can--”

“Shepard.” He gripped both of her arms below the shoulder. Warmth pooled in her chest as he looked into her face with his warm eyes. “You can do this. I know you can. You do everything.”

“Maybe not this time.”

“I’ve doubted you.” His eyes dropped for a moment, and he shook his head. His eyes lifted slowly back to her face. “I was wrong. You can do this.”

“Kaidan . . .” She bit her lip, chest tightening.

“Just do what you remember learning from the beacon. We’ll return to Sol, pass through the relay, and replace the cracked Shard. It will work.”

“Cracked Shard?” Shepard’s heart skipped a beat. “The cracked Shard’s still there . . .”

Sol’s cracked Shard was black. It was the Shard she’d gotten from the dormant relay on Elliom. It was the Shard that, when it fractured and sprayed particles, had let the other Shepard leave this timeline. 

Kaidan’s brow pinched. “Of course, it’s there. If not, we couldn’t get back. We didn’t break it going through. It has at least one more activation, enough to get us back to Sol.”

Air filled Shepard’s lungs, and she smiled. “The Sol relay’s Shard is fractured, not shattered. When we go to replace it, that Shard might break then. The fractured Shard. The one no one needs.”

“That won’t matter.”

“Right.” Shepard smiled even wider. 

This was the answer. If their passage through the Sol relay didn’t shatter the fractured Shard, she’d shatter it herself when she replaced it with the new Shard. It was the best of both outcomes: Sol had its new Shard from Tuchanka, and she had the particle dust from the fractured Shard in the Sol relay. 

Of course, the fractured Shard could shatter when they passed into Sol. Shepard chewed her lip. In that case, she would be forced to shatter the Tuchanka Shard instead of replacing it. At least with this plan, though, there was a chance for a win: win. Either way, she had a clear path home, but a possibility of not hurting any by it. It was perfect. 

“All right,” Shepard said, her blood quickening. “I need your help pulling the Shard from the beam.”

“You said--”

“I changed my mind.”

Kaidan frowned and looked over at the Shard rotating in the mist. “What should I do?”

“Kaidan, listen.” She grabbed his arm to get his full attention. “Tell me what happened at the Sol relay when the Shard cracked. Why didn’t pulling it from the beam work?”

Kaidan’s frown deepened. “You were the one there, not me.” 

“What do you know about it? Quick.”

“Shepard . . .” He stared at her, taking a step back, and knocked her hand away. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Kaidan! Just tell me.”

“What do you want to know? Hell, Shepard, I wasn’t even there.”

“Did someone help me pull the Shard from the beam?”

“You did it alone.”

“When did it crack, at what point?”

“I don’t know. The report Parliament received said it fractured when you tried to pull it free biotically. You stopped after hearing it crack. Any more manipulation would have shattered it.”

She had tried to free the Tuchanka Shard with Ambassador Mason’s help, and it hadn’t worked. They’d both reached for it with glowing hands, working together to release it, but it had shattered. It hadn’t worked with Mason, and it hadn’t worked alone. The only time she’d been successful it seemed was with Commander Anchor, and that was ten years ago on Elliom.

“I was successful with Anchor on Elliom. You’ll be Anchor. We’ll do it just like I did then.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing?”

“You’ll stand across from me on a different bridge.”

It was the same position Alicia Mason had taken, and the attempt had failed. Their placement may not matter. Everything she could replicate from her one success, though, she had to try. If she could bring Anchor back from the dead just for this moment, she might actually consider it. But he was long dead, and Kaidan was here instead. He watched her with a hard expression.

“The bridge over there.” Shepard waved across from her. “We climb up to the beam. I’ll come from the other side. Be careful.” 

She walked up to the chasm’s edge. The ring of ice looping the chasm was crusty with hard patches of snow. The frost extended over the edge of chasm in large, solid ice stalactites. Air howled through the rivets in her armor as she looked over the edge. Darkness. 

Kaidan edged his way the other direction, keeping far from the edge of the chasm, to the point his armor scraped along the wall. Shepard rounded the other direction. Her hands still shook with a slight tremor, and the wind rocked her footing with each step along the cham’s edge. 

She tested her weight on the first bridge. It groaned with her second foot, but it didn’t shift or drop with her shuffling steps. The bridge was a little wider than a steel construction beam, and she put one foot in front of the other to ascend to the beam. 

The bridge rose up in an arch. Shepard stretched her arms out, steading her weight with each footstep, and shuffling across the chasm step by step. The metal ring connecting the bridges appeared at the top of her vision, but she kept concentration of the placement of each boot. She’d spent countless beach days balancing on driftwood in sandy feet and squinting at Avyn playing in the waves. She almost wished she had barefeet for this, but the idea was preposterous. A crack in the armor, loss of pressure, and she’d die. 

“Shepard.”

She looked up carefully. She was almost to the ring. Kaidan stood a person’s length away on the other side of a misty veil of light. He watched her with a tense, fretful expression. It was the same one he had watching Avyn on the monkey bars, where every slip of her fingers on a ring made him shoot up from the bench ready to grab her. Shepard steadied on the narrow band of metal and looked into the light. The Shard hung in the snowy beam, pulling in all the light around it. That familiar hum of energy unique to the Shard washed over her.

She only needed to replicate her success on Elliom now. She had stood here, Anchor there. It was Kaidan’s steady eyes watching her through the veil now, not Anchor’s, and her heart beat stronger and slower. Kaidan instead of Anchor was a difference to be glad for. Back then, she’d been tense, heart racing, face sweaty looking across at Anchor’s oily grin and shifty eyes. 

What had been specific about Anchor? What made him succeed with her where Alicia Mason hadn’t? Mason and Anchor were both biotics. They stood in the same place relative to Shepard. Anchor was a weak biotic, but he had been dextrous. He’d bragged about it to her. Alicia Mason had been solidly average both in dexterity and strength. That was one difference between them.

“Kaidan.”

He stared directly at her. Despite the rush of wind from below them, he could obviously hear her.

“Anchor was dextrous with his biotics. You’re better. He was also a weak biotic, so you need to tone it down. Anchor got the Shard free without much biotic energy. Hold back.”

Kaidan nodded. His eyes moved to the Shard floating above them. It hung too far overhead to reach by hand. It was so agonizingly close, but so incredibly far at the same time.

“Okay.” Shepard flared and lifted her hand. 

Kaidan followed her motions. Blue light wisped off his body in the chasm’s wind, and he waited for more direction. Her outreached arms brightened her vision, and she hesitated.

“Shepard?” His voice cracked with static in her ear.

She let her biotics fizzle away and lowered her hands back to her side. “I didn’t help Anchor. I couldn’t use my biotics. I instructed him, watched, gauged his progress. I didn’t remove it myself. Maybe that’s what I did wrong the other times.”

“Other _times_? More than Sol?”

“Other _time_ ,” Shepard corrected quickly. “I need to concentrate on sensing what you’re doing, direct you. Doing it myself, my own biotics might have been in the way. I was too distracted to direct it right. We’ll do everything like I did with Anchor. I’ll tell you how to go. Slow and easy.”

“Shepard, if--”

A blast shook the bridges. She reeled, off balance, barely catching herself from falling. The boom echoed through the chamber. Krogan piled in through the doorway below and aimed rifles up at them. They fired again.


	13. Blacklash

**CHAPTER 13: Backlash**

The krogan opened fire. Kaidan and Shepard teetering on the metal bridges spanning the chasm. Shepard unfurled a biotic shield. Bullets rippled over it and ricocheted off the icy metal under her feet. She stretched her shield to cover the bridge groaning below her feet and the Shard hanging above. Kaidan flaring blue on the other side of the beam. Kaidan touched her shield extending over him, and his energy shot through the weave in a reinforcing wave of mixing biotics.

There were four krogan with Wreav. They weren’t going to leave until Kaidan and Shepard were either dead or captured. Captured by the krogan would be as good as dead. No one was coming with reinforcements. That meant killing five krogan, who were on solid ground with assault rifles, while she and Kaidan wobbled on the narrow bridges, exposed like low-scoring targets in a gallery. 

“Shepard!” Wreav bellowed over the gunfire. He held up a hand, and his men held fire. “Shepard! We’re going to kill you. Come down and die like a warrior. Falling to your doom is the fate of a coward.”

“Don’t do it, Shepard.” Kaidan lifted his voice above the chasm’s wind. “He’s underhanded.”

Wreav drew closer to the chasm’s edge and waved at the open area to either side of him as if in invitation. Kaidan’s posture sharpened. Through the veil of their biotic shield, he watched Wreav’s slow steps with an intensity Shepard knew well. He had a plan. 

Wreav was a distance from the chasm’s edge. His kinetic shield flickered over his armor. Even if Shepard had the reach in her biotics to touch him, his shield would block a Pull. A Warp or Reave would only send Wreav staggering backward out of the range of their biotics. It wouldn’t be enough to take down his kinetic shield. Kaidan’s stretch with biotics was better than hers, but even he couldn’t break Wreav’s shield with one biotic hit.

“Kaidan?” She tried to draw his eye, but he was focused on Wreav approaching like a pointer watching a duck fall from the sky. 

Tension coiled in Kaidan’s shoulder tighter and tighter. Step by step. Wreav stopped. 

“Shepard! Come down. Last chance, then you die like a pyjack crawling out of an egg.”

Wreav had reached a stopping point and appeared content to continuing standing there. Kaidan’s lips pulled to the side in a disappointed frown. If Shepard could trust anyone’s plans blindly, it was a plan from Kaidan.

“Hey, Wreav!” she shouted down at him. “I’d sooner come down to stomp on a pyjack crawling from an egg than bother with you. You’re not worth killing, _gentockatam_ !” _One worthy of the genophage._ Her time in Tuchanka was proving invaluable.

Wreav nostrils flared. He bellowed like he’d been physically struck. He charged at the chasm raising his rifle at them. The four krogan behind him opened fire. Wreav took one more step. 

Kaidan thrust his hand through their biotic shield and a flash of light exploded under Wreav’s feet. Wreav wasn’t the object of Kaidan’s biotics. It was the ice ledge beneath him. It broke free. Wreav’s rifle dropped and disappeared into the chasm. He windmilled his arms as the ice broke beneath him. His foot slipped. His men rushed to help him. He grasped wildly for a handhold as he slid toward the chasm in the break ice. He went over the edge. One of his men caught his hand. Wreav dangled, feeting kicking at the ice, bellowing orders at his warriors. The warriors were concentrated on hauling Wreav back from the pit.

Shepard dropped the biotic shield and threw out her hand. A spinning ball of Singularity flew from her fingertips. It settled in the chasm nearby them. The krogan’s kinetic shields flared against the sphere’s pull. They hauled Wreav over the ledge, first his shoulders then his legs. Shepard threw Warp at Wreav’s back, but it fizzled over the distance. Kaidan’s Reave didn’t fizzle. It hit Wreav from behind. 

Wreav roared and arched his back. He’d just gotten to his knees on the ice, ready to stand. Blue chainmail glowed over him, ripping his kinetic shield apart. Kaidan’s biotic barrier flared with the leeched energy. The krogan warriors hadn’t managed to retreat back far enough, and Kaidan threw Warp at Wreav. It reacted with Reave. His kinetic shield struggling back to life blew apart, staggering him on his feet, and making his warrior take a step back from him.

Without his shield, Shepard’s Singularity dragged Wreav into the air. One of his men caught his hand. Warp now would cause an explosion. The krogan around him sensed it. One of the krogan jumped in front of Wreav and absorbed Kaidan’s next Warp. A second hit, Reave, knocked out the man’s shield. No one was scrambling to grab his hand, and Singularity sucked him out over the chasm. He wasn’t a clan leader worth the effort. When the sphere faded, he fell. The three krogan left helped Wreav back from the ledge, and Wreav’s shield charged back into a dull flicker. Kaidan cursed.

Wreav waved for his men to fan out. The krogan kept close to the wall and fired up at them. Shepard pushed out a biotic shield, but the shots came from too many directions. She extended it like a bubble to cover all sides. Across the mist, Kaidan was doing the same with his own biotic shield.

The metal under Shepard’s feet shifted and groaned. She looked to the side. One of the krogan warriors was coming up the bridge toward her. She threw Warp at him, but under the heavy barrage, it was becoming harder to hold a biotic shield of this size, let alone use biotics offensively. The krogan coming toward her wasn’t deterred by her weak attacks. He lifted his rifle, pumping the trigger, and taking one step after another toward the beam. He was close, and each bullet hit like a swinging pickaxe on her shield.

Shepard drew her energy inward. Her shield dimmed. The krogan was right on her. He drew his Omni-blade. She knew even as she released it, it wouldn’t be enough. A different flash of energy hit the krogan first. Blue chainmail. Reave. Kaidan had thrown it, and it was strong. The krogan’s shield shattered. Shepard had already released Warp. It hit him.

For a second, it was a victory. The krogan tore apart in a reaction of biotic energies. It detonated. Then waves from the biotic explosion hit her. She flew backward through the air. Over the chasm. Falling like before. 

Familiar energy pickled and fizzled over her. Her biotic barrier was blocking it. She was dropping fast. She released her barrier. Biotic energy hit her again. She stopped so abruptly, her insides rubber banded. If not suspended and paralyzed in blue light, she may have thrown up. Kaidan had put her in Stasis.

The poor coordination of biotic attacks, releasing Reave and Warp at the same time, had thrown her off the bridge. The coordination of dropping her barrier, and Kaidan’s second attempt at Stasis was the only thing saving her now. She hung suspended over the blackness below. She’d fallen before in the relay on Tlliom. It was a long way down. There was nothing to save her at the bottom this time. 

She started to lift. The bridges and the connecting ring spread overhead. Kaidan was Pulling her up to him. It wasn’t without cost. As she neared, she could see a shadow moving on the bridge beside Kaidan. Apparently, a krogan had approached Kaidan on his bridge as well. 

The krogan’s Omni-blade flashed. Kaidan was on his knees holding a biotic shield in one hand and drawing Shepard up by the other. Over and over, the krogan beat Kaidan’s shield, driving him lower against the bridge and dimming his energy. Bullets were still chipping the metal under his feet. Shepard had only a few meters left to reach Kaidan’s bridge. The krogan noticed her. A hitch in his beating Kaidan’s shield, and Kaidan flared. A sharp Pull. Shepard plowed into the krogan with the force of Kaidan’s Pull. 

The krogan caught his footing despite being thrown off balance, but so did she. She shoved him with open palms and a forceful flare of her biotics. It was caveman-like, not elegant, but it was enough. The krogan wobbled and fell. He was still slashing with his Omni-blade, staring up at them with wide red eyes, when the darkness swallowed him. Another krogan dead. That left Wreav and one warrior. Good odds.

Shepard pulled Kaidan to his feet. He staggered against her. The crack in his arm had thin cracks spider webbing out from the sealed fissure. A ding in the paint looked like the mark from a bullet. But the crack hasn’t reopened. 

A bullet nicked the corner of her heel, and she put her hand on Kaidan’s biotic shield. She reinforced it. Wreav and his last man fired without stopping. Their armor belt were packed with heat clips. They weren’t making any move to relive the mistakes of the past. They weren’t going to come after Shepard and Kaidan on the bridge, and they wouldn’t be getting close enough to the chasm that Kaidan could reach them. They’d stand with their backs against the wall, firing endlessly, and awaiting the inevitable. She and Kaidan could try moving down the bridge to escape. On this narrow icy bridge, concentrating on holding a biotic shield while being riddled with bullets, they were more likely to fall than reach the wall. 

Kaidan’s energy was weak and erratic. Their shield pulsed like a wound, and he swayed on his feet holding the shield out. She wasn’t much better. If either of them gave into biotic fatigue and fainted, it would be an end for both of them. They may have reduced the krogan to two, but there was no winning this without something drastic.

Shepard turned against Kaidan’s shoulder and pressed a palm to his chest. She pushed out with her energy. It was the same trick that had saved them in space with the blue cord streaming away with the shuttle. Only now, Kaidan wasn’t frozen with hollow terror. She met resistance. It was the same resistance she’d felt with him in dead space, but then it had been slow, distracted, too stunned by shock to hold her back in time. Now it flared up like an iron wall, layers of thick energy driving her back with enormous force.

“Kaidan! Stop,” she snapped.

He shoved her back with his hand, but she held onto him making their helmets bonk together.

“Stop!” he hissed through his teeth.

“Don’t resist me.”

“What the hell are you doing? Help hold the shield.”

“We can’t hold it forever.”

The biotic shield wavered and dimmed. Kaidan concentrated on it, eyes squeezing into slits, and a low groan as he forced more energy into holding it. 

“Help me.”

Shepard spread a hand on his chest again.

“Shepard, the shield!”

“Drop it when I say. Reave, Warp, it will break their shields. Then Pull them over the ledge.”

“What? They’re too far to reach.”

Shepard pushed out with her energy into him. His energy blocked her, condensing and cementing in layers, thickening with a pulsating resistance. It pushed back at her. She applied more pressure. It snapped out at her like an explosion. 

Blue blinded her vision. Her nerves stung. Pain erupted behind her eyes. She stumbled, and Kaidan caught her elbow. She steadied herself, facing him, and blinking away the shock. Her vision cleared, and her breathing froze. She stared into Kaidan’s helmet. Blood trickled from his nose. His eyes were blurred and blinking, skin suddenly sweaty, and he staggered against her still clutching her elbow. The backlash of energy that pushed her away had exploded through his biotic reserves.

His biotic shield covering them was thin and unstable. Shepard added her energy quickly. It was hard to weave through and reinforce his shield. The strands were frayed and loosening like cut cords. He stumbled again and grabbed her arm tighter.

“Kaidan. Dammit. If you pass out, you’ll fall. Sit down.”

He dropped to his knees still holding the biotic shield with one hand. For the first time, he wasn’t being stubborn and had actually done what she asked. He clutched the metal beneath him with his free hand. He was weak, and sitting would be safer. But if he passed out, he would still fall.

“Just release the shield, Kaidan.” She butted him lightly with the toe of her boot, but he didn’t move. The shield still flared from his open hand, draining him. “Do it, Kaidan. Dammit, I swear, sure as hell if--” 

He released the shield. His hand dropped. The weight shifted immediately onto her, and she gasped. She fought to hold it. Kaidan gazed up at her, eyes hooded and bleary, and starting to close. He fell forward. Her heart shot through her mouth. The shield wavered, and she reached out her other hand to grab him. He’d only fallen forward onto his face. He clung to the bridge with both hands, not falling further, and rested his helmet on the metal by her feet.

They couldn’t stay like this forever while Wreav and his last warrior hammered them with endless bullets. There wasn’t any cover, and Shepard couldn’t hold the biotic shield forever. If she could entice them onto the bridge, she may have a chance. Trash talking Wreav wasn’t going to work again though. It had to be something bigger than that to get under his skin enough to want a close, instead of an easy, kill. She knew the highest insult to a krogan.

Shepard put her back to them and sank down on her heels next to Kaidan. She held the biotic shield behind her, but in a lazy, careless way. Her biotics were weakening, but Wreav would only be able to guess that by the brightness of her shield. She wasn’t going to look anything but bored and confident. She turned on her Omni-Tool screen as if discussing it with Kaidan or perhaps just looking for diversion. 

“Your defensive biotic backlash put us in a bad spot,” she said conversationally.

Kaidan didn’t move. The way he clutched the bridge on either side of his head, he probably had a migraine.

“If you’d only done what I asked,” she said.

“Or I asked!” 

He was lucid enough to be listening then. 

“You’re so damned stubborn.” She chuckled.

There was movement behind them. Shepard turned her head just enough to see what was happening in her periphery but not enough to look like she was paying attention. 

“Shepard! Look at me, Coward! Afraid to look into death?” Wreav roared.

Ignoring a krogan in battle was a greatest insult. It seemed to be getting to him. Another ten minutes, her biotic shield would break. Fortunately, Krogan weren’t known for their patience, especially when being ignored.

“Shepard! Coward!”

Shepard turned on an active vid and boosted the volume all the way up.

_“Blasto, you bastard, drop the guns.”_

_“This one should go. Step aside or suffer lethal consequence.”_

It was getting harder to hold the biotic shield. It was taking longer than she expected for Wreav to react. He yelled her name again and paced against the wall.

“I know, right?” Shepard laughed loud enough it echoed and patted Kaidan on the back “You do a good impersonation, but pay attention to this part. Here comes Blasto’s evil clone.” She laughed again.

The bullets stopped. Shepard could breathe again. Wreav was pacing cagedly with cutting turns and motioned his man to the bridge. He followed at his heels. The metal groaned and shifted beneath her with the added weight of two krogan.

Kaidan lifted his face at the reverberation. Shepard’s heart sank. His visor was smeared with blood. It had to be blood from his nose, but there was so much of it. Kaidan fumbled with his Omni-Tool. The krogan would need to be close for a tech attack to reach them. Once the krogan were that close, the punch of their assault rifles would tear right through her weak biotic shield. The krogan had kinetic shields over their armor. She didn’t have the biotic reserves to wear away their shields, especially taking on two of them, even with Kaidan’s tech attacks to supplement. 

The bridge creaked. Behind her, a fissure was growing where the bridge met the metal ring encircling the beam. These spindly bridges weren’t meant to hold two humans and two krogan.

The two krogan had made their way high enough up on the bridge's arch to see them. Shepard raised her biotic shield. Each bullet hit like a sledgehammered nail. The bridge lurched beneath them. It groaned so loud, it even gave the krogan pause, but only for a moment then they were firing again and shuffling closer.

“Kaidan.” Shepard jiggled his shoulder. His full focus was on the krogan, a tense readiness coiling in his posture with each step closer they came to being within range of his Omni-Tool. “Can you stand?”

“What?”

“This bridge is going down. Hear that? We don’t have time.”

Her shield was failing. Each bullet made it flutter more sporadically. It wouldn’t hold much longer. The krogan in front of Wreav laughed and pulled the trigger again. One more hit it would break. The krogan’s gun beeped. Overheated. Kaidan’s hands flew over his Omni-Tool for another attack. Wreav’s rifles choked on its bullet and beeped. The krogan pulled out their Omni-blades and came faster toward them. A flash of ice made their pace slow, but wasn’t enough to phase their kinetic shield. The metal screeched beneath Shepard’s boots.

“We don’t have time for this!” She looped Kaidan’s shoulder, and still holding her anemic shield, dragged him backward toward the metal ring. It was meters away. The shift in weight made the fissure between the ring and bridge grow wider. The bridge began to shake. Kaidan was still struggling with his Omni-Tool and a blast of ice frosted the air just short of the krogan warrior. Kaidan grumbled. She’d pulled him out of tech range, but it didn’t matter.

“I swear, Kaidan. C’mon! Help me here. Find you damned feet.”

“Running away! Shepard the hero is a coward! Where do--” Wreav cut off, eyes growing big, as the bridge moved. The krogan in front of him went dead still.

Shepard was still too far from the metal ring and each step only made the bridge lurch sharper. Wreav backed away, his eyes locked on Shepard, but tension building in his face with each metallic groan beneath them. He turned and ran. His pounding feet were the last straw. The bridge broke.

It felt like slow motion. Her vision tunneled on the growing break between the bridge and ring. The metal beneath her was screeching. Kaidan dragged behind her, towed by the arm, ass scrapping on the metal bridge. Then the ground bucked beneath her. The fissure grew wider and didn’t stop. She felt weightless as it fell away. She jumped off it, a weird sensation of the ground leaving her, instead of her leaving the ground. Her hand hit the ring. The frosty metal made her grip slide. She caught herself with her fingers, yelling against clenched teeth, to dig a firmer hold on the metal ring. 

Kaidan dangled from her other arm. He clutched her waist. She released him and swung to grab the ring with her other hand. It took two tries. She grasped the ring with both hands. In her easy life of Council meetings and picnics by the ocean, perhaps she couldn’t have saved herself here. But this body was tough and pumped with well-used muscle. Shepard pulled them up onto the ring one segment at a time.

The bridge had fallen completely away, but Wreav hadn’t gone with it. He struggled on the ledge of the chasm and pulled himself up bit by bit. He tumbled onto the icy ring hugging the wall, fell flat on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. He’d lost his rifle and all of his men. 

When he got up, he seemed to take the same assessment. Shepard and Kaidan lay like two ragdolls, desperately holding onto the narrow security of the metal ring looping the white beam. Their limbs shook from the strain of lifting themselves up from the pit. Wreav eyed them from the distance and looked at the three remaining bridges. Shepard flashed her biotic shield up, weak as it was, but he couldn’t know the extent of her fatigue. He backed away and bolted through the doorway into the relay’s tunnels. 

Shepard dragged Kaidan to one of the bridges. It was wider, if only relative to the thin band around the beam. They collapsed, stretched out like the two wings of a butterfly, their helmets touching, and Shepard’s legs dangling over the thin inner ring. The black Shard gleamed overhead in the hazy white light. It was unharmed. 

*** 

Someone found them. When she felt the vibrations against her suit, she forced herself upright and put out a palm. She could barely muster the biotic corona she needed as a threat. Kaidan, face obscured behind bloody glass, stirred and pawed at his Omni-Tool. Then Wrex came over the crest of the bridge. He stopped there, apparently mindful of the creaking metal warning under his boots, unlike Wreav.

“Hah! You think a krogan destroys things. Look at this. Took down a bridge.”

“Where’s Wreav?”

“Got back to his ship. They left, but they’ll be back.”

Shepard slouched and rested her head back on the bridge. She had a lot more to say to Wrex, curse at him for letting them get spaced, but she didn’t have it in her. She barely had the energy to sit upright.

“Need a lightweight for this bridge. Chedur!” The reverberations of Wrex’s footsteps echoed away against her helmet. “Go up there and get them.” 

Shepard clung to the bridge and tried not to fall asleep. A few more minutes, and they’d be safe.

***

Shepard stirred the powdered creamer into her coffee and leaned back in the mess hall chair.

“Guess it makes sense for what happened,” Joker sat across from her, “but that shivery cream-ripping you got going on looks like it’s getting worse.”

“It’s fine.”

Joker shrugged and slouched back in his chair. He pulled the bill of his hat lower over his eyes.

“You’re going to sleep?” Shepard blew the steam off her coffee. “That hat adjustment used to mean I’d find you drooling on the dash in a few minutes.”

“This?” Joker tugged the bill of his cap. “Just getting comfortable with the lights in here.”

“It’s like fluffing your pillow. I’ve seen it enough. What happened to your bunk? Or that leather seat molded to the shape of your ass upstairs?”

“That new copilot, Mark? Guy’s always yammering. No way I’m sleeping in the cockpit when he’s on duty.”

“But sleeping while _you’re_ on duty is fine?”

“That’s cause I’m never not on duty.”

Shepard set her mug down. “Pretty sure your flight report only covers a twelve hours shift.”

“That’s the benefit of the other twelve. No flight report.”

“Uh huh.” Shepard blew on her shaky cup of coffee.

Ten hours since stumbling through the Normandy’s airlock and she still felt weak and shaky. If this was just recovery from biotic fatigue, it was taking its time. A medical checkover, D5W drip, and some rest was usually enough to get her back on her feet. At least, it had in the old days. She held up her quivering fingers. Joker was right. It was getting worse.

“Kaidan’s fine, right?” Joker lowered his voice.

There were a few servicemen in the kitchen fixing coffee and rummaging for MRE’s in the cupboard. For the most part, it was quiet in the mess hall. Night cycle. The lights overhead had dulled to a low greenish hue.

“You guys had Medigel in your ‘Tools, right? Can’t be that serious, right?”

“Medigel doesn’t work on migraines.” The XO’s door stared back at her, a silent barrier.

“That’s it? Thought it was something worse.”

‘That’s it’ wasn’t how she’d describe it, but ultimately, it wasn’t life threatening. Enough time and meds, he always came out of it eventually. A neurology resident had told Kaidan in his early twenties that there may come a time it would never go away. Kaidan carried that fear through every attack.

Joker followed her gaze to the XO’s door. “You really worried about him? You guys got scraped up pretty bad out there, huh?”

“Like the Tog, only worse.” She snagged her coffee and stood.

“Tog? What the hell’s that? Hey, where you going?” Joker tipped his cap up to see her face.

He had a downcast frown. His creaky metal folding chair, the shadows under his eyes, and the way he rolled his neck stiffly -- this couldn’t be a comfortable first choice for getting shut eye. It probably wasn’t even a second or third good choice either. He was here for her. Shepard almost tapped her coffee back on the table and sat down again, but a shadow moving in the med bay drew her eyes.

“Sorry, Joker. Catch you around.”

“Wish you were on the bridge again so we could talk there. I’m glad Wrex didn’t get you killed, Admiral. What’s that, like, strike two? You know what they say about the third time, right? I’d get an excuse ready for when he asks you to do a third favor.”

“Trust me. Wrex hasn’t heard the last about this one.”

“Can you keep your mic on for that? Not that I listen in or anything on that stuff.”

Shepard gave Joker a flat look then headed to the med bay. The coffee warmed her palms as she slid through the opening doors.

“Admiral Shep.” Dr. Quigley popped out of his chair. “My best customers. What can I do for you?”

“You’re awful perky for the middle of night shift.”

“Triaging bloody, incoherent senior officers has a way of waking you up.”

“And then keeping you up?” Shepard wandered further into the room. “And, you might want to stick to ‘senior officer’ singular.”

“Eh. My lisp comes and goes. Always adding those pesky ‘s’es’.”

“How about helping me with some pesky ‘s’es’?”

“What are we pluralizing?” He folded his arms and held the bottom of his chin. Despite the serious tone, he grinned. “You have some serious cajoling ahead if you want your sleeping pills bumped back up to two. Alcohol and zanthoyl, still a big ‘no-no.’ And is that coffee decaffeinated? We can start with some non-chemical, sleep hygiene tips.”

Shepard frowned down at her steaming cug. “It’s caffeinated. I’m not trying to sleep.”

“No, no, no. Absolutely not.” Quigley put a palm out as if to stop her saying more. “Stimulants are off the table. Even cajoling times a hundred, no. Last time, Navigator Bater said you spoke so fast you sounded like a chipmunk on fast forward. You had everyone doing jumping jacks and lapping the CIC when they couldn’t understand you enough to follow orders.”

Shepard frowned, but pushed any follow up questions away. “Let me cut to the chase.”

“No pain killers!” Quigley put a finger up. “You have no reason to be in pain. Physically. Saying you have a headache won’t work. Tylenol’s all I’m dispensing. And definitely not the you-know-what.”

“What?” Shepard’s face scrunched. “Nevermind. I don’t care. My request is about Admiral Alenko. How’s he doing?”

“Hopefully, improving. Never had a L2 under my care before.”

“L2,” Shepard repeated sourily. Like the implant defined him. “As far as pluralizing something. You’ve been checking up on him, I assume. When are you going to look in on him again?”

Quigley checked the time on his ‘Tool. “Pain meds still have another two hours.”

“Oh.” Shepard twisted the hot mug around in her hands and moved to the med bay window. Across the mess, the XO’s cabin was shut tight. “What about just a check-in? A good doctor will do multiple drive-by’s.”

“Medical advice? Well, I suppose you do spend as much time in the medical bay as I do.” Quigley pressed his lips together and nodded. “The secret to being a good doctor. Always thought it was recommending rest. Especially with a migraine. Rest, dark, quiet, time. But multiple drive-by’s and interrupting sleep? Well. Any other areas of medical confusion, I’ll put you on my Omni-Tool speed dial. Right after EMERGENCY.”

“How much cajoling will this take?”

“Hmm.” Quigley leaned a shoulder against the med window and studied her. “Less than for liberal dispensing of narcotics and its associated jail time, but more than a smile.”

“Two smiles.”

“How about telling me why? Admiral Alenko looks a little like our eager XO, Tautum, before he hopped a rung on the ladder and got his own ship.”

“Implying something?”

Quigley shoved his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “I’ve noticed you following Alenko’s career over the years. Fan?”

“What?” Shepard wrinkled her nose. “Nothing so slimy. You really think I want in there just to dig through his underwear drawer and take selfies with him while he’s tranquilized.”

“Oh, he’s not tranquilized. He’d probably catch you going through his underwear. Though . . .” Quigley thought for a moment then shrugged. “Maybe he wouldn’t mind.”

“Why?” Shepard side-eyed him.

Quigley grinned. “You know, Shep. Underwear theft’s a serious business to get mixed up in. Depending on number of days left in deployment and how much you snatch, it could be quite inconvenient for the admiral.”

“I asked you -- You know, nevermind. Can we move past the nonsense?”

“I don’t talk all nonsense. The admiral did sit here with you for hours after the Omni-blade skewering. Hard metal chair. No TV. You snoring.”

The blood warmed in Shepard’s skin. “He _was_ here.”

“About turned over the chair when I caught him sleeping. Even got a biotic flare for a second. Then he caught his bearing and swore at me.”

“Swore at you?”

“I may have said ‘good morning’ a little too close to his ear before he woke up. With his reaction, I did have a moment of regretting it. Saw my life flash before my eyes: learning to crawl all the way through Shepard surgery number 493.”

“Lucky you didn’t need to do surgery on yourself. Gunshots are hell.”

“Admiral wasn’t armed. Checked first. I did forget about the L2.”

“Biotic, not ‘L2.’ Don’t single him out like that.”

“Hmm.” Quigley pulled away from the window, eyes shifting between her and the XO’s door. “Suppose I check in on him early? Like a good doctor.”

“Perfect.”

“I assume this is about you coming with me?”

“You could use some assistance, I’m sure.”

“I can usually carry a paper cup with pills myself. Since it’s two hours before even needing to do that, then how are you going to assist me?”

“It’s dark. I’ll shade my Omni-Light to guide you to him, take a peek to see if he’s all sound, and then show you out.”

“While you stay?”

“Well . . .” Shepard folded her arms. “Pain meds make him pretty sleepy. He has two hours before needing more, but this is a bad one. He’ll wake early. I’ll stay an hour max. In, out. Only leaving with the underwear I went in with.”

“Taking selfies?”

“None.”

“You’ll loom over him, while he sleeps?”

“Sit, like a civilized stalker.”

“No trophies. Locks of hair, fingernail clippings . . .”

“Toenail clippings maybe. He’ll never know they’re gone.”

Quigley’s face split into a wide grin. “That sounds all in order. There is a chance your Omni-Light assistance could wake him. What then?”

“Maybe it’ll be your clunky loafers, not my light.”

“I already sneaked up on him once in my clunky loaders. He wasn’t even on pain meds then. Anyone’s feet clunking wakes him, it’s yours. If he hadn’t been in here staring at you as you slept, I wouldn’t be party to this. As it is, if we wake him up, I estimate only a forty percent chance I get written up. Five percent chance I get slugged and then written up.”

“Good. Fifty-five percent nothing happens. Better than half. Let’s go.”

“Ten percent chance I’m seriously maimed from the five percent chance of being slugged. Two percent chance you name the child you conceive after me. Quigley works for a girl, too, right?”

“Not a chance.”

“One percent chance then that the child you conceive is named after me. What about as a middle name? Mary Quigley Alenko. Well, unless you keep that secret. Mary Quigley Shepard. Or why choose? Mary Quigley Alenko Shepard. Is a bit of a mouthful.”

“Come on.” Shepard set her coffee mug on his desk and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go be that good doctor.”

“Let’s? You’re pluralizing too much now. I’m the good doctor. You’re the Omni-Too light assistant. Unless he wakes up. Then I’ll follow his huge eyes to your face and yelp like I didn’t know you’d followed me in.”

“Chance of Mary Quigley just dropped half a percent.”

She towed him through the med bay doors. Joker, slumped over the mess hall table, jolted upright. Quigley pointed at him, no doubt about to give some sleep hygiene advice or some nonsense, but Shepard prodded him to the XO’s door. 

***

The door to the XO’s cabin slid shut behind them. Blind, the hint of Kaidan’s aftershave in the air made Shepard’s heart pick up pace. Quigley whispered something about a light. The Omni-Tool’s flashlight would be too bright. Instead, she turned on the Omni-Tool itself. Its orange glow bathed the room in lines and shadows. She pulled the brightness setting down to the lowest setting.

Quigley was already across the room standing over Kaidan’s bed. Shepard hedged up behind him. Kaidan lay on his side, face tipped into the pillow, sheet bunched around his waist. His bare chest rose and fell with soft breathing. Shepard’s heart expanded into her throat. Countless nights she’d watched him like this, facing him from her own pillow, watching his eyelids twitch in sleep. When she looked up, Quigley was watching her. He leaned into her ear, so quiet she could barely hear him.

“Mary Quigley Shepard Alenko.”

Shepard gave him a sharp look, which must have been what he hoped for. He grinned then pointed to his Omni-Tool’s clock. He held up a single finger, then with a pointed look, walked two fingers in the air toward the door. Shepard gave an affirming nod. Quigley tiptoed across the room like a shadow and disappeared out the door.

Were she still an Alliance admiral, this could cause trouble. As it was, this bordered more on stalking than fraternization. Fair was fair though. Quigley had confirmed Kaidan’s own vigil while she was down. Granted, med bay was public, while this was Kaidan’s area.

The room was bare like she remembered. Aside from the bed filling up most of the back alcove, there was only his duffle bag at the foot of the bed, and the holoscreens on the wall. The only place to sit was the floor. She slid down against the alcove’s wall with the bed in front of her.

Kaidan really was striking. Gorgeous, even. She’d never not thought so. Even now, though he was a different person in so many ways, his beauty was arresting. Hands tucked under his pillow, that chiseled jawline, soft lips, dark hair tousled and thick, chestnut-colored eyes. Eyes! Shepard’s spine shot straight. She scrambled to her feet. 

His hooded eyes had a hard edge and followed her up. “This needs treated, not enabled.”

His voice was dull, eyes a bit bleary, and he didn’t move his head to look up at her.

“This?” She hestitated a moment then sank onto her heels by his face.

“Behavior.” He blinked droopily. The pillowcase creased against his lips when he spoke. “Why’re you here?”

Shepard tilted her head sideways to mirror the position of his face. “Still have a bad migraine, huh?”

“Yes.”

A pang of guilt. “Did I wake you?”

The dim orange light of her Omni-tool gleamed in his slow-blinking eyes. He watched her. Didn’t speak.

“Hey. I’m sorry. I mean that. I only wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“My room’s not on your list.”

Shepard studied the floor. “True. I’m . . . I’ll go.” She stood. She fought the urge to squeeze his shoulder or straighten the sheets around his waist. “Feel better, Kaidan.” She turned toward the door.

“I was awake.”

Shepard stopped. “I’m leaving. Best way to encourage that is to say nothing.”

“Nothing,” he murmured. 

She looked over her shoulder. The corner of his lips curved up weakly. It was the only side of his face she could see with the pillow in the way, but the smile didn’t look mocking. Shepard glanced at the door. He had quite literally said nothing, but if he truly wanted her to leave, he wouldn’t have said even that much.

“Okay, Mr. Whatever.” She took one slow step toward him.

“Watch me sleep for an hour? Why?” he asked dozily.

“Hour?” Shepard took soft footsteps back to him. “Just guessing on that timeframe? Or you saw Quigley’s message?”

“Walking fingers? Rare combat hand signal.”

“Worked. I understood. You, too, apparently.”

He gave a slight smile.

“Why’re you pretending to be asleep?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“He might have had your pain meds. Shouldn’t keep your porchlight off, or you’ll miss the trick-o-treaters.”

“Two hours left.”

“Keeping track?” Shepard tisked. “Sign of an addict.”

“Or a splitting head.”

“Or that.” Shepard sat down on her knees by his bed. “Hey. I was worried about you out there.”

“Worried you’d miss chastising me?”

“Chastising you?” Shepard chuckled. “I thought it might be a mutual chastisement.”

“It would be."

Shepard settled herself on the floor and crossed her legs. She tipped her head sideways to mirror him.

“I can see your face the other way too,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Maybe it’s not for you.”

He thought for a moment. “Did I imagine it? Watching Blasto during combat?”

“You didn’t imagine it.”

“Good. Bit worried.” He eyed her suddenly. “I’m sorry. What I did to you. The energy.”

“Apologize to yourself. You burst all your biotic reserves in that backlash.”

His eyes lingered on her face. “I didn’t mean to endanger you. I don’t know what happened.”

“You really don’t know? I could have helped you. You wouldn’t let me.”

“I ordered you to reinforce the shield.” His voice sharpened. He winced and closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them again, he was breathing tighter. His migraine must be bad if he was using breathing exercises. “You’re not navy anymore, Shepard, but you’re on an Alliance ship. I’m CO.”

“True,” Shepard allowed. “I had a better idea though. There wasn’t time to explain. I needed you to trust me.”

“I needed you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” 

His eyes squinted, and she softened her voice to a whisper. 

“Kaidan, if I reinforced that shield, we would have just stood there until they broke through, which they would have eventually. We were just sitting there, pinned. We needed to solve the problem, not prolong it.”

“There were ice stalactites around the chasm’s rim. If you’d helped me with the shield, I could have used them as projectiles. If that didn’t work on its own, it could have made the ice sheet buckle under them.”

The krogan had been lined up against the wall. A chunk of ice at high speed . . . She’d seen Kaidan throw stage lights as a weapon. It could have worked. Wreav may not have escaped.

“You’re right,” she said at last. “I should have trusted you.”

“What the hell were you doing?”

“The same trick I used in space to help you reach the cord when it was too far.”

His brow knit. “I felt a surge.”

“That’s what I was trying to do, so you could reach the krogan with your biotics.”

Kaidan's face scrunched with a sudden change in breathing. He closed his eyes and slowly raised a hand to his temple. Shepard let time stretch until he dropped his hand. When his eyes opened, they were bleary but starting to refocus.

“What were you saying . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, Kaidan.”

“Something about reaching the krogan. How?”

“Amplify. I channel my energy into yours. You direct both our energies. Strength, reach, endurance: everything is amplified with my energy.”

“I’ve been around asari. Taught biotics for years. I’ve never heard of that.”

“You were there when it worked.”

Kaidan’s expression grew distant. “I was terrified. I can’t remember well.”

“You reached for the cord. I gave you a boost.”

“But then it didn’t work again inside the relay?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you resisted, then lashed back at me.”

Kaidan’s eyes squeezed shut. “None of this makes sense. I’m . . . This headache.”

Shepard reached toward him then stopped herself. She let her hand drop back to her lap. “Let’s talk about it later then.”

“Spaced,” Kaidan whispered. “When you -- then maybe --”

“It’s all right.”

“I’ve thought of you like that. To see it. Feel it. I . . .”

His speech was becoming garbled. The stress and talking was worsening his migraine. She should have realized this earlier.

“Backlash?” he said. “Doesn’t make -- You’re -- I don’t know. I almost--”

“Hey.” She touched his cheek. 

He jerked back. His head smacked into the wall. Breath hissed through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes so tight so tight they watered. His head probably felt like it was ripping apart after slamming the back of his skull against the wall. His breath tightened in his chest. Against his side, his fists clenched into quivering knots.

“Dammit. I’m sorry, Kaidan.” 

Shepard yanked her hand back, but it was too late. She shouldn’t have touched him. Of course, he’d jerk away from her. Kaidan’s face scrunched from the pain, and he clenched down on the air inside his chest. His eyelids trembled from the strain. She felt helpless, waiting for the breath to drain from his chest, but he wasn’t letting go.

“Kaidan.” She lowered her face against the edge of the bed and barely whispered. “Let the breath out. You know better. Come on.”

The breath came out slow between his lips with a groan. His raised quivering fingertips, perhaps to touch his forehead, but his hand only made it to his waist before he cringed and dropped his hand. If the migraine was at a point moving his body, even just raising his hand, hurt, then he needed more than oral pain meds. He needed a tranquilizer. 

He clenched down on another breath. He’d passed out this way once, holding his breath against the pain. After a Spectre mission and taking a shotgun shell to the helmet, he’d been sick -- throwing up in the shuttle, barely able to talk, staggering against her to reach their bed on the merc ship they’d hired. There wasn’t a doctor. They’d been married a few months, and she’d never seen him so bad. Then he had done this, what he was doing now. He held his breath. He passed out. She had rolled his face to look at her, tapped his cheek, called his name over and over again. When he woke, the pain was ten times worse. He’d become delirious, combative, shivering and writhing in agony. 

“Kaidan, keep breathing. If you pass out, you know it’ll be hell when you wake up.”

His face was pinched so tight, he may not even hear her. His lips darkened into a blue. His face started to tip into the pillow.

“Kaidan! Here, here.” She worked her fingers into the rigid muscles of his neck. She followed the stiff fibrous cords to where his spine met his skull. The hollow spot near the base of the implant was hard to find. Kaidan squirmed away from her hand, still holding his breath, but rolling away just enough she had to stand if she wanted to reach the back of his neck. It was a sensitive area. Personal. 

“Let go of the breath, or I’ll squeeze it out of your chest,” she tried instead.

She had tried squeezing it out before. It didn’t work, but it was a good threat. He either didn’t hear or was calling her bluff. He was giving her no choice then. She pinned his shoulder roughly so he couldn’t squirm away and reached around his neck with her other hand. Biotic energy tickled over her skin. She worked her fingertips into the familiar dips and curve of his neck. 

Energy flowed out slow and precise in rhythm with her fingertips pressed below his implant. His face loosened. She put her other palm on his sternum like a threat, but the air already leaked from between his lips. He drew in a ragged breath. He’d start coughing now, and it would make everything worse. He needed sedation. 

“I’m getting the doctor,” Shepard said softly into his ear.

Her fingertips slid away from his neck. He caught her hand. It sent a jolt through her. His eyes slit open. He pulled her fingers back to his neck. She had been married to Kaidan four years before she stumbled upon this combination of biotics and pressure points. The stimulation competed with the signal derangement coming from the L2, something that, when Kaidan tried to repeat it on himself later, didn’t work. Doing it himself required activating his L2 further to draw on the biotics needed in the massage. Kaidan’s family weren’t biotics and no one else was close enough to him for Shepard to teach them how to do it. She regretted never trying something like that earlier. Discovering the maneuver earlier could have saved him years of extra misery. It didn’t take away the pain, but it helped in a way the medicine couldn’t.

She worked her fingertips deep into the flesh at the back of his neck and directed the undulating trickle of biotic energy. His chest loosened, breathing clipped and regulated, but steady. The ridge between his eyes lightened and smoothed. His eyelids stooped closed. His head became heavy and rested against her fingers.

Shepard flipped on her Omni-Tool’s comm and whispered into the mic. When Quigley strode into the dark room, he already had a syringe in hand.

“That bad?” he whispered and slipped across the room with feline footsteps.

“What’s that?” Shepard nodded at the syringe.

“What he needs.”

“What works best may not be what you expect.”

“I reviewed his medical records.” Quigley felt for a vein in the hollow of Kaidan’s elbow.

“Hyncol 40 mg, Tretedone 120 mg, and Xorthriptan 0.5 mcg?” she asked.

Quigley’s fingers froze on Kaidan’s arm. Quigley stared at her.

“Well? Is it?” Shepard pressed, still massaging deep into Kaidan’s neck.

Despite her deepening massage, Kaidan’s breathing was starting to tighten again. His slit eyes, bleary and watering, focused on her face. 

“Give it to him, if that’s correct.”

“Ah. Right, right.” Quigley found the vein.

Shepard brushed the hair back from Kaidan’s forehead with her free hand. His forehead was clammy. By the time the doctor sat back on his heels with the needle, Kaidan was already starting to unclench and slowly relaxing into bed. His muscles went limp and heavy. Shepard massaged the back of his neck until his eyelids slipped closed. His head rolled against her hand. The breath from his lips came soft and slow into her face.

“He should be in the med bay.” Shepard looked sharply at Quigley.

“How did you know that cocktail?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hyncol isn’t marketed anymore. I had to get it directly from the manufacturer. I only had it on board for him. And Xorthriptan? It’s salarian, rarely used on humans.”

“Works for him though.”

“At exactly 0.5 mcg too.”

“See. Maybe I’m not so disreputable a source of good doctor information.”

Quigley stared at her suddenly. His eyebrows rose. She tasted brine on her lips. Dammit. She rubbed her face roughly and turned back to Kaidan. She drew her fingers back from his neck slowly. Her other hand was in his hair and harder to withdraw. He looked so peaceful now. 

Maybe it was taking advantage of Kaidan, and Quigley was right there, but she couldn’t stop herself. She pressed her lips to his temple and rested the tip of her nose in his hair, breathing in the forest scent of him. When she stood, Quigley was watching her with parted lips. Lost for words for once maybe.

“We were together once,” Shepard said quickly.

“When? I’ve been with you for eight years. Except for the batarian cryochamber, I’ve only seen him on newsfeeds. I thought you were with Tautum. It must have been a long time ago.”

Shepard glanced down at Kaidan’s smooth face and watched the regular rise and fall of his chest. “Not so long ago.”

She moved around Quigley and out the door. She avoided Joker’s eyes in the mess hall. Alone in her cabin, she thought of the Mass Effect Shard waiting for them outside the ship. They needed to extract it before Wreav returned from Tuchanka with more ships. Shepard lay on her bed. Stars shined on the other side of the glass window overhead. They felt so far away: little, glimmering balls of lights in an endless expanse darkness. Her home was further away than starlight. The glimmer of it she saw in Kaidan was only a reminder of the endless expanse that separated her from home.


	14. The Shard

**CHAPTER 14: The Shard**

Shepard spent the morning jotting down what she remembered about successfully retrieving the Mass Effect Shard. Nothing stood out. In the end, all she had were meaningless words on a screen and a black and white memory looping over and over in her head. She’d need to trust herself and focus on guiding Kaidan instead of using her own biotics. 

Kaidan was still down. His worst migraine attacks could go on for days. Wrex had offered to help with the shard. He was a biotic, but he didn’t have Kaidan’s dexterity. The one person successful in retrieving the Shard with Shepard’s direction had bragged about his dexterity. It could be a factor. Shepard said no.

Wrex’s ship had stayed in orbit around the dormant relay. Wreav had limped away on a crippled ship but was sure to be back. Joker swore he took out the ship’s comm antennae, which meant reinforcements wouldn’t be rallied until Wreav physically reached Tuchanka. Tuchanka was days away and would require days once there to then return with heavier fire power. Shepard had time. 

Until Kaidan could help her, she didn’t want to risk tampering with Mass Effect Shard. Now she’d decided to retrieve it to fix the Sol relay, she didn’t want anything going wrong to shatter it. The fractured Shard currently powering Sol relay would be enough to get her home and with a clean conscience. It just needed to survive the activation of them returning to Sol.

Dinner dishes clanged around her in the mess hall. The microwave was running, voices talking over each other, and a savory preserved-meat smell filled the room. She’d just gotten off the elevator and a few of the crew waved for her to join them for the meal. Shepard nodded absently but couldn’t take her eyes off the XO’s cabin door.

“Shepard,” a male voice said behind her.

She jumped. If she’d been carrying anything, she would have dropped it. As it was, what she did drop had crewmen whipping around in their chairs and laughing. Kaidan just gave her a tired look and folded his arms. The med bay door was still sliding shut behind him. His skin had a drained, bleach cast to it. The glassiness in his eyes and his sharp glance at the bright overhead lighting . . . He shouldn’t be up yet.

“Admiral,” Shepard greeted. He seemed in a formal mood.

“The shuttle’s ready.”

“Ready for . . .”

Kaidan gave her a dull look, like she was being purposefully obtuse, then he moved to the elevator. Scrapping forks and resumed conversations in the mess hall ushered her after him. Kaidan’s hand wavered on the elevator button.

He looked at her suddenly. “Were you coming to eat? I can wait.”

“Where are we going? The relay? You don’t look up for that.”

“I’m fine. Do you need to eat first?” His hand strayed toward his temple, but he dropped it fast and straightened his shoulder back. He waited for an answer.

“Have  _ you  _ eaten?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m good.” Shepard hit the elevator button for him but couldn’t hold back the frown on her lips.

They rode the elevator down in silence. He wrapped his arms in a tight fold and squinted forward at their reflection in the door. He rushed out between the sliding doors before the full inertia of the elevator had dissipated.

It didn’t take long to get armored.  The flight to the relay was just as silent as the elevator ride. Kaidan hunched over on the shuttle’s back bench and put his face in his hands. Shepard wavered on her feet, holding the grip overhead. The shuttle bucked. The pilot cursed and yelled back something about gravitational turbulence. Kaidan hands balled into fists against his face.

“Alenko?”

“What?” He didn’t look up from his hands.

Shepard squatted and set her helmet onto the floor by her boots. She kept her voice a whisper. “Hey. You don’t seem fine. Let’s give this another twenty-four hours. Better chance of success if you’re a hundred percent.”

“I’m not reaching a hundred percent in twenty-hour hours.”

“Probably jump up a good thirty-forty percent. Got to be better than this.”

“We’re doing this now,” he said with an edge and lifted his face from his hands. “XO Carpenter updated the Alliance on our location when I was down. It has to be now. If something’s off, we can stop, and come back at it like you want.”

“Why the rush? Wreav has to reach Tuchanka to rally any firepower.”

Kaidan sat back in his seat with a sigh. “That’s my final word.”

His eyes drooped closed. He seemed about to rest his head against the wall when the shuttle jumped again. He straightened but didn’t open his eyes. 

“Just you and me again, huh?” Shepard asked.

“Want someone else, just give the word,” he said, eyes still shut, body rigid.

Shepard sat next to him on the bench. “Let’s get this done.”

***

Shepard stood on the narrow bridge facing a beam of misty light. Only three bridges spanned the chasm now. Their last visit had taken its toll, but the metal ring and other bridges were solid enough. The black Mass Effect Shard hung overhead. 

“Alenko, reach up now.”

Kaidan stood across from her on the opposite bridge. Their trek through the relay had been silent. The clomp of their grav boots on the ice and the slow breathing in her helmet’s comm were the only sounds. The exertion, rather than draining him, had given a little more brightness to his eyes by the time they reached the inner chamber. Ironically, drawing nearer the chamber had only made her weaker. Her hands shook, but she ignored it. She didn’t need steady hands for retrieving the Shard. 

Blue light glowed around Kaidan. He raised his hand into the misty beam. He exhaled sharply into the comm.

“What’s the matter?” Shepard said.

“It feels . . . I don’t know.”

“It’s a warped mass effect field. Your biotics look too bright. Tone it down. Anchor was weak. This shouldn’t take much.”

The blue glow faded on the other side of the beam.

“This is . . . It’s incredible,” Kaidan breathed out. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“It’s old. Something beyond us. Beyond the Protheans.”

“It feels like the Shard, only purer, more intense. A thousand times more intense. Do you think this beam does more than hold the Shard?”

“Over the last ten years we’ve known about the Mass Effect Shards, I’m sure there have been plenty of theories put forward.”

Kaidan’s arm glowed orange with activation of his Omni-Tool. He held the screen up to his face.

“Kaidan!”

“The air’s damp. Ions. There’s a vaporized traces of--”

“We’re getting the Shard. Come on! Collect readings when we’re done.”

“Uh, right. Sorry.”

“Now reach up with your biotics. Be delicate.”

A weak blue light gleamed over the surface of the black stone. Kaidan’s focus sharpened on the Shard, but he still side-eyed the beam curiously through the glass of his helmet. Shepard chuckled despite herself. She knew the look so well. It usually harbingered a week of conversational inserts, ponderings, and epiphanies over the subject which sparked the look. The persevering never came to anything tangible, but until he’d exhausted the “how’s” and “why’s,” she could expect to slip into the shower to find him frozen, a bar of soap forgotten in his hands, and a faraway look in his eyes. 

_ “Think the krogan built that temple over a thresher maw nest? All the art on the wall worshiping them. The shocks and reinforcements in the walls. Floor meters thick? No wonder it survived earthquakes and warfare, but . . . Think there was a maw nest there once, that’s why they built it there? Wonder if they could tell if they dug. Might find fossilized larvae, old tunnels, maybe ancient krogan vehicles or gear than had been dragged down. If there was a--” _

_ “I’m naked.” She would put a hand on the wall. _

_ Water-splattering his face, he’d grin and start lathering the soap in his hands. “Want me to get your back?” _

_ “I want the full platinum-level wash.” _

_ “Full access.” He’d grin even deeper. “All right.” _

“Shepard?” Kaidan’s voice drew her back to the beam and his glowing blue form. “Are we doing this?”

“Mind wandered.” She cleared her throat. “Now, you feel the Shard? Bend the center of the field slowly.”

She felt blind directing him in a way that she hadn’t with Anchor. 

“It’s vibrating. Resisting,” Kaidan said.

The blue sheen of his biotics rippled across the glossy black surface of the Shard, like oil over asphalt. She couldn’t see what he was feeling. It looked fine.

“Keep going.”

“I don’t know, Shepard. If I do more . . .”

“Pull inward to move it. Work around the resistance by drawing into the vortex.”

This felt like reading a manual to someone on the other side of a wall who was blindfolded and digging through a box of table legs and bolts. She had no concept of the pieces themselves, only words. He had only pieces but no way of knowing how to fit them together.

“I’m getting a lot of feedback with my pull,” he hissed.

A loud buzz vibrated out from the beam. The Shard shook.

“Stop!” Shepard yelled.

Kaidan froze, his hands raised in the beam, a soft blue stream of light between him and the black Shard. That buzzing sound. She’d heard it before when trying to retrieve the Shard with Ambassador Mason. The Shard had made that sound before it shattered.

“We need to slow down,” Shepard said.

“I’m being slow and delicate, but it’s not coming loose. Is there something else Anchor did? Did he loosen it incrementally, not one sustained pull?”

“It was like how you’re doing it now.”

“Then why doesn’t it work? Maybe the beacon you touched on Elliom was specific to that half-constructed relay? They were found together.”

“I’m not sure.”

Blue light faded off the stone, and Kaidan dropped his hands. “I thought you knew how to do this.”

“This is different than what I was expecting.” She hadn’t expected to retrieve the Shard at all.

“Slight difference between relays?” Kaidan mused. ““We should study this more, identify characteristics of the beam. The Alliance Library may have something we can use.”

The Shard hung dark and glistening above, just out of reach. Her scalp tingled with its familiar energy. Her fingertips prickled when she lifted her hand. She sunk her hand into the foggy beam. She jolted, and all the breath left her body.

“Kaidan,” Shepard said in a rush. “Try again. Put your hands back into the beam.”

“It wasn’t working, Shepard. Any more I may--”

“Come on.”

Kaidan frowned through his plexiglass visor at her, then flared and lifted his hands toward the shard.

“Shepard, I could almost feel it cracking.”

“I know. I heard it. Just try again. I’ll direct you.”

Images and an intuitive sense of motion thrummed in her chest. With her hands in the beam of light, she could sense nothingness and everything all at once. Something old and distant, but familiar like a childhood melody remembered from a music box. She knew how to open it. The Shard beat with energy deep inside the beam, like her own heart buried under the contracting and expanding force ribs.

“Can you feel it?” Shepard whispered into her comm.

“It?”

“The Shard. Can you feel it, almost like it’s a part of you? I think . . . I remember this with Anchor.”

“Like part of you? I feel the field. It tingles like a diluted version of the Shard’s energy. I can’t describe it, but it's not part of me.”

“I feel it. I think my biotics masked the sensation when I tried to retrieve the Shard myself. Without touching the beam, just now, it was missing. But now . . . Reach for it. I’ll direct you.”

Energy flared in her chest, warm and familiar, but not her own. When she looked up, the Shard was glowing faintly with biotic light. 

“I feel your biotics on the Shard.” She laughed. This was working. “Bend the center of gravity, pull inward.” The Shard shuttered. Her heart stopped. “Stop! You’re still too powerful. Tone it down, Kaidan.”

“Shepard, I’m trying. Any less, I can’t grasp it.”

“Then barely grasp it. Let yourself almost lose it.”

The warm flare in her chest melted into a dull tickle of heat. Shepard closed her eyes and reached her sense out to the Shard. The dull bit of heat and brush of energy across the Shard’s surface felt right. Inside herself, the energy was loosening and moving with the gentle pull of Kaidan’s biotics.

“I’m feeling a shift,” Kaidan said. “It’s giving.”

“Work around the Shard. Don’t pull directly. Let the gravity of your inverted energy guide it like a vortex.”

The Shard’s presence shifted and slipped inside of her, like it was working free from a vice. Shepard opened her eyes slowly. Kaidan tiptoed on the edge of the metal ring with both arms up. The Shard lowered slowly toward his trembling hands. It still had resistance in the beam.

“I have a light hold on it, Shepard. When it breaks free, it may fall.”

“Try a firmer grip with your biotics now.”

His energy brightened. The Shard buzzed to life. It gave a sharp pop. Shepard’s heart leaped into her throat. The Shard hadn’t broken. It was breaking free from the beam’s resistance. It wavered just out of Kaidan’s reach. Then it fell past his fingers.

“Kaidan!”

Kaidan threw out his palm. The Shard flared with light and froze in the air. It hung in the white beam, floating between them, surrounded by Kaidan’s Stasis. His breathing pounded in her ears from the comm.

“Caught it,” he said.

Shepard reached out and Pulled lightly. It floated to her, and she snatched it from the beam. The beam shifted a dull gray color. Even the feel of the beam changed with the Shard removed. Shepard stepped back from the gray beam.

The Shard’s weight in her hand was so familiar she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It felt just like she remembered, the fluxing brush of energy unlike anything else she’d touched.

“You did it.” She looked up at him and curled her fingers around it.

A part of her wanted to close it in a fist and shatter it inside the beam. She longed for the crunch, the crackling feel against her palm, the sight of its dust glittering between the fingers of her glove. Instead, she pushed it carefully into the pocket of her utility belt.

“You did it, Shepard,” Kaidan said from across the mist. “You asked me to trust you. You came through on this one.”

Shepard smiled grimly. She almost hadn’t.

“Let’s get it back to Sol,” she said.

***

Kaidan stood beside her in the Normandy’s cargo bay as Wrex’s shuttle lifted on the ramp. 

“We need to make this quick,” he said.

Wrex jumped out of his shuttle and grinned at Shepard. The Shard was still tucked in her utility belt, her armor feeling heavy with the Normandy’s gravity, sweat staining her brow from the struggle with the beam. Their shuttle pilot was still going through post-flight checks in the distance and watched the krogan with a wary alertness. The debacle on the moon hadn’t been forgotten yet. Wrex’s two goons watched from the krogan shuttle’s doorway, not even bothering to debark.

“Good bye, Shepard. You got it, heeh?”

Shepard pulled the Mass Effect Shard from her belt. Wrex reached out a hand. Kaidan hissed something and took a quick step around her. If he meant to intervene, he didn’t get a chance. Wrex had already touched the Shard and pulled back boredly.

“Strange.” Wrex chuckled. “So much for our secret relay. Better appreciate that, Shepard.”

“You have another dormant relay in the system. Admit it.”

“Ha. It may exist, but Clan Urdnot doesn’t know it. You want another, Shepard. This time answer’s ‘no.’”

“Didn’t exactly ask permission this time either.”

Wrex bared his teeth in a sour smile. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then consider us even. You nearly got Alenko and I killed twice, Wrex.”

“This Shard better factor into talks.”

“Alenko will talk to them. A peace deal can be worked out for both sides.”

Kaidan pulled off his helmet, gave her a pointed frown, but didn’t say anything.

“We will see,” Wrex said and shuffled back to his shuttle.

“Better kill Wreav,” Shepard said, following him. “Long as he’s around, the krogan won’t accept peace.”

“I must beat him in combat. Public. The entire planet must see. That is how a Clan Leader becomes leader of all. The arena.”

“He’s a coward. If get him to fight you, you’ll beat him.”

“I will.” He crawled into the shuttle. “Until the talks.”

Shepard gave him a weak smile. “Sure.”

The shuttle door closed. The cargo bay lights flashed, shuttle ramp engaging, and air hissed around the shuttle as it lowered into the shute.

“Joker,” Kaidan touched his ear. “Sixty seconds, get us out of here.”

“Aye, aye.”

Kaidan ambled across the cargo bay to the lockers and dropped onto a bench. He held his head for a few seconds before starting to unsnap his armor.

“Why the fire under our tail?” Shepard’s armor creaked as she leaned back on a wall of lockers.

Kaidan tugged off his gauntlets and tossed them into an open locker behind him. “XO Carpenter updated the Alliance while I was down. Our location is pinpointed. We need to move.”

“Cicero,” Shepard said softly. “You think he’ll tip off the krogan? Krogan reinforcements will leave Tuchanka to meet Wreav enroute, and he’ll turn back on us?”

Kaidan worked at his leg guard. “Cicero seems uniquely interested in our flight plan. This is the one place he knew we’d be eventually, and it had Wreav waiting with three ships.”

“If the Normandy is destroyed, Cicero would be stranding himself in Sol.”

“He’d burn the Alliance to the ground to prevent someone else taking it from him. He’d rather see me fail and come up with his own solution for the relay.”

“What about Wreav’s other ship that found us on Kurich’s moon. Cicero couldn’t have known about that to tip them off. Unless you think I told him.”

“I don’t.” Kaidan looked up. “The Council knew about the moon. There was no reason they needed to know the location, but I told them. It was my fault.”

“Councilor Wilson gave the information to Cicero?”

“No,” Kaidan said quickly. “I trust him, but things have a way of flowing between the Council and Parliament.”

“Cicero’s daughter is one of Wilson’s aides.”

“I don’t think she means anything wrong by it, but things have a way of getting to Parliament.” His eyes drifted to the wall behind her while he clipped off his other leg guard. “When this is over, I think . . .”

Shepard came a step closer. “What?”

Kaidan glanced at her. “I think when we get back, Parliament’s going to be unhappy.”

“Unhappy with you?”

“Yes.” Kaidan worked on the latches of his chest plate. He grunted, reaching for the furthest clip behind his neck, but waved Shepard off from helping.

“How can they be upset? If you fix the Sol relay . . . And you might even bring peace back to the galaxy by having opened peace talks.”

“I endangered a level one mission. I could have wasted one of the Sol relay’s last activations. That’s not to mention loss of life, the ship, perhaps given the krogan Alliance hostages, spurred them into striking in full out warfare when the Alliance is fragmented. Wrex took us stealing their Shard well, but when the rest of the krogan on Tuchanka find out . . .”

“Taking the krogan Shard was bound to come out anyway. Wreav’s ship were waiting for us here. It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe, but that’s not how it will look. The krogan knowing we were here will look like a consequence of our unsanctioned communication with Wrex. What happened on the moon won’t be kept quiet. The Normandy destroyed krogan ships near the moon and here. We exchanged gunfire. Killed krogan soldiers. The mission was meant to be in and out of krogan space without anyone being the wiser. Where we got the Shard to restore the Sol relay would have been classified for a century.”

Shepard’s heart beat faster. “I don’t want you to be in trouble. Let me talk to Parliament on the QEC. This was my doing.”

“It doesn’t matter. I took responsibility for you. Your confession will only hurt you with the Council when they rule on your Spectre status. It won’t change anything for me. My later actions will support my condoning your communication with Wrex.”

The last of his armor removed, Kaidan moved toward the elevator in his underarmor. Shepard clacked after him in her untouched plates of armor. 

“They have to give you credit for the peace talks, at least.”

“That’s hardly settled. We’ll see.”

“Kaidan--”

“Shepard. No more,” he said tiredly and stopped at the elevator. He motioned at the Mass Effect Shard forgotten in her hand. “Find to Lieutenant Jones about securing that in the armory. I’m off duty. Talk to Commander Carpenter if you need anything.”

Whatever emotional high there had been securing the Shard, it had faded now with reality.

“You’ll drive this peace agreement through, Kaidan. It will count for something. Trust me.”

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside.

“Good work today, Shepard.” He faced her and hit an elevator button. “XO Carpenter if you need anything.”

The doors slid shut. She turned back to the lockers. The heavy armor pinched her shoulders and hung clumsily on her shoulders. She turned the black Shard over in her palm. She set it on the bench beside her and pulled off her gauntlets. She craned her neck. Lieutenant Jones had to be somewhere around here.

*** 

Miranda stared dully at Shepard through the comm. “Congratulations on finding a way to get what you want without needing to screw us over. How magnamious.” 

Shepard frowned and folded her hands on the cabin’s desk. “A win-win isn’t worth acknowledging?”

“Have you had any more memories?”

“What?” Shepard peered at the screen.

“You said you had memories coming back.”

“Coming back? They were never there. They’re not my memories.”

“They are now.” Miranda stood up from a glass desk. The picture from her Omni-Tool’s camera jostled as she strolled across a well-lit, white-walled space. “Aside from being glad to not be marooned in Sol, I’m actually glad you called.”

Shepard sat up higher in her chair. The cabin’s darkness hung on her like a tomb. The only person she’d seen in weeks who gave a damn about her was Joker and even that was tenuous.

“You’re glad to talk to me?” Shepard shifted in her chair. “You believe me then. We can be on good terms?”

“Sure. Whatever makes you feel fuzzy.” Miranda stopped next to a wall-sized holoscreen. “You made me curious, Shepard. That information on eezo-nodule malignancies you gave me is leaps ahead of any research I’ve found on those children. It’s working in my rat models. I’ve started producing your ‘Biostace’ drug. Extraordinary.”

Shepard sank back in her chair. Back to that. It was true, no one did give a damn about her.

“Congrats.”

“The jump in treatment will be historical. Perhaps worthy of a Human Systems Nobel Prize in Medical Advancement. If it works.”

“It was still experimental. It hadn’t cured anyone yet.”

“But it could.” Miranda touched the holoscreen and brought up an image of a human brain. “Simply prolonging life, even by a few months, is worth hundreds of thousands of credits.”

“Hundreds of thousands of credits from whom?”

“Like any orphan indication, the patient cost can be subsidized with grants from Human Health Systems Funding.”

“Subsidized. You’re making the parents pay? Little heartless, don’t you think? Using their child’s life against them for commercial profit?”

“Cutting humanity off from the rest of the galaxy, stranding us in Sol. That’s not heartless?”

“If this is all you have to say . . .” Shepard reached for the monitor’s switch.

“It isn’t.” Miranda flicked away the image of the brain and brought up text articles and data graphs. “This is why I’m glad we’re talking. Your medical tip made me consider the possibility that you’re not crazy. I did some research.”

“This has happened before with someone?” Shepard scooted forward in her chair.

“Of course, not. It’s all theoretical. There’s a scientist, Joseph Temple, who theorized on the possibility of moving between timelines. He suggested the combination of a mass effect field and electrical energy could displace an organic. At the time, he was conceptualizing a machine similar in properties to the mass relay to do it. He recognized its ability to bend space and time with a mystery constant, he called ‘sigma.’”

“Mystery constant. The Mass Effect Shard?”

“Yes, though, he didn’t know what it was, only that by the equations and theories it needed to exist. He believed with those factors, you could move sideways to another branch. It’s similar to what Rebecca Vega has published.”

“Great. I know all this.”

“There’s something different.” Miranda drew a line on the holoscreen with two divots with a sphere resting in each crevice. “He believed only special circumstances could dislodge someone from their timeline. It wasn’t enough to have the sigma constant, mass effect energy, and electricity. What he proposed was the marble theory.” Miranda tapped the two spheres on the screen. 

“The timelines are a row of marbles fixed in place in their own separate grooves. At one point in time, there are many different realities co-existing. If one marble gets dislodged from its timeline, it rolls back and forth, clicking against the other fixed marble to either side, nothing happens. It slips back into its spot. Dislodge two marbles right next to each other, both marbles roll around. Maybe they find their original spot again, no difference. But what if they don’t . . .”

“I rolled into the other marble’s divot?”

“Theoretically.”

“What happened to the other dislodged marble?” Shepard said slowly.

“It found the other open divot.”

“What?” Shepard shot to her feet, turning the chair over. “What the hell does that mean?”

Miranda gazed lazily at the screen. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“This Shepard -- the one who leaked Alliance intel; used her boyish lover as a patsy; who seduced the foreman of her trail; who lied, cheated, and killed her way through countless missions in some self-aggrandizing fury --  _ that  _ marble rolled into my spot?”

“As you rolled into hers.”

“This is just a theory. It’s wrong. Ambassador Mason was in the same storm as me, had the same Mass Effect Shard particles in her skin, and she disappeared.  _ Disappeared.  _ She wasn’t replaced. They couldn’t find her at the Vancounver banquet. That’s what happened to me on that side. I just disappeared.”

“And what did you do when you woke up here?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did you do?” Miranda folded her hands behind her back.

“I . . . I ran.”

“There you go. Mason disappeared.’ She didn’t vaporize. It’s been weeks. They’ve probably already found her.” Miranda expanded a news article on the holoscreen. “If you're curious, I looked her up. Alicia Mason was also exposed to deposits from a Mass Effect Shard in this timeline and near the same time as you. Both marbles were primed with Shard material and knocked out of their place in the eezo storm. But in this timeline, our Alicia Mason is no ambassador.”

The news article Miranda magnified on the screen had Alicia in handcuffs escorted by Alliance officers. Hair wild, she gave the camera a vicious look. The heading read: “The Late Human Councilor’s Daughter Charged with Relay Sabotage.”

“Dormant relay near Pyrius IV, who would have thought,” Miranda said. “Obviously, trying to make a weapon. An anti-alien extremist with big aspirations and not enough talent. She was being held in Vancouver during the storm. Good room I’m told, faced the ocean, windows probably open to the storm like you.”

“What happened to her?” Shepard’s heart lifted. “If the same thing happened to her as me, then the Alicia Mason here isn’t a lunatic. She’s from my time. She’d know me. If I could talk to her . . .”

“I’m sorry.” Miranda said, sounding genuine, and flipped to the next news articles. Shepard’s stomach sank. “She died. Apparently, she’d developed an allergy to a common meat preservative, stacchatamous. She had gotten overexposed to it working at a meat processing plant three years ago. She ate baloney on her third day in jail, two days after the storm. Must have been a serious allergy.”

“Developed the allergy only three years ago? She wouldn’t have known she had the allergy then.”

“Perhaps.” Miranda dismissed the news articles from the screen. “In your case and Mason’s, you were both exposed to the right external circumstances to cause displacement: the Mass Effect Shard’s particles, you’re both biotics, the eezo-rich storm in Vancouver. Both marbles were displaced in their timelines at the same point in time.”

Shepard chewed her lip. “This other Shepard. I appeared in her body. Do you think she appeared in mine, at my home? My family’s there.”

“She wouldn’t harm them. No reason to worry about it. Worry about you.”

“She’s a maniac, Miranda.” Shepard hunched over her desk and looked closer into the screen. “I haven’t met anyone yet who she hasn’t hurt or used.”

“She’s not a maniac.” Miranda rolled her eyes. “You don’t know her. She’s you. Only made a few different decisions.”

“Whatever she did to Kaidan, she hurt him. I never would have done that.”

“You don’t even remember what ‘that’ is, do you?”

“I don’t want to.” Shepard slammed down into her chair. “I can’t think about hurting him.”

“But these memories are returning. If it’s an important memory, which it sounds like it is, then it will come back. These memories are chronological, moving closer to the present, correct?”

“Does that matter? They’re just dreams.”

Miranda paged through a black and white journal article on the screen and magnified a section. “Here, Temple talks about the marbles. They’re stuck in place, remember, until they’re dislodged? Imagine they’re set with epoxy. The right mix of energy and sigma constant will break the marble loose from the epoxy. As the marble rolls and settles back into a divot, it’s own or the other dislodged marble’s place, then the epoxy takes hold again. The epoxy hardens until the marble’s as fixed in the divot as it was at the beginning.”

Shepard’s mouth went dry. “What are you saying, Miranda? These memories are the epoxy? Then I won’t sleep to remember them.”

“The memories aren’t the epoxy. It’s like feeling the stickiness of the epoxy starting to set. It’s only a sign.”

“And once the memories reach the night we switched?”

“You’re fixed in place.”

“I’ll just break free again then. If I have the Shard--”

“You’ll be a marble rolling against a fixed marble. You’d just roll back to the only spot open: this one.”

“Then,” Shepard swallowed down the panic burning up her throat, “What’s the point of doing any of this now? It’s pointless getting the Shard, using the electricity then.”

“No. Listen. Right now you’re both not fixed in place, the memories are still coming, the epoxy is drying. If you break loose, between her weak epoxy and you rolling against her, you can dislodge her. You can roll into her spot. Your spot.”

“How do I do that?”

“The minute you have the Shard dust in your skin, use the electricity and eezo to break free. The stronger and fresher the signature from the Shard, the more momentum you’ll have to hit the other marble. The longer her epoxy sets, the less chance you’ll have of knocking her free. Once the memories are back for both of you and the epoxy sets for good, no amount of momentum will knock her free. You’ll be stuck here no matter how many times you douse yourself in Shard dust and use eezo and electricity.”

Shepard chewed the corner of her lip, mind racing, and got to her feet. “We’re heading to the Sol Relay now. I’ll shatter the old, fractured Shard. Get it’s particles on me. Then I’ll help Kaidan place the new Shard. I can use the electricity and eezo on my Omni-Tool immediately afterward. The Shard dust will be less than an hour old. I’ll have good momentum, like you say. My memories are still years out.”

“I hope so, Shepard. Though the memories are chronological, you can’t count how much time you have left by it, like a timer. You’ll remember the important memories, which could be more or less dense at different time points. I assume newer memories will be stronger, probably start to group and extend out the count down, but it’s hard to say. Don’t get complacent thinking you still have steps to go. You never know.”

“I won’t,” Shepard said firmly. 

“So, right now, you and the other Shepard are sticking to the other’s timeline. You can’t move. The epoxy is setting, memories returning, and soon you’ll be set in place permanently. If, before the epoxy sets, one of you breaks out of your timeline, there’s a chance of knocking the other aside and fitting back in your spot. Once the epoxy sets, though, all the memories have returned, you can still break free, but it won’t do anything. The memories are back, and she’s fixed in place permanently. You can’t move her anymore. 

“The only way to switch back after the epoxy sets, the memories are back, is if  _ both _ of you are set free again She’d need to break herself free. Not  _ knocked _ free by the force of you hitting her,  _ broken _ free by her own hand. She’d need to understand the problem to the level that she’d know to find a Shard, create the right conditions, and on top of that,  _ want t _ o return that desperately. It won't happen. If you want to get home, it has to be before your memories catch up and you’re both fixed in place forever. After that . . .”

“I’ll be home in a week,” Shepard said.

She’d hit the imposter marble like a pinball hammer. She was on her way to the fractured Shard right now. If the fractured Shard broke on reentry into Sol, she had the Tuchanka Shard as backup. She need only have an “accident” installing it in the beam. Her way home was practically assured.

***

Shepard stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the crew deck. It was late, but there was no use trying to sleep. Miranda’s words kept rolling around her head. The other Shepard wouldn’t hurt her family. She had to keep telling herself that. The other Shepard had no reason to hurt them. If she woke up on the beach, she may have wandered into the forest, gotten lost, or . . . What happened if she died in the other timeline? A chill ran through her. She pushed the elevator button again just to have something else to concentrate on.

She got off on the crew deck. It was no use getting worked up over the unknown. In a few days, it wouldn’t matter. She’d be home. Her returning memories were still far away from the present. The last potent dream she remembered was Liara’s office where she’d stolen the Alliance datachip. That was before Liara and Kaidan were married, which was years ago.

The crew deck was deserted. The lights were dim. The dishwasher was running. Even the med bay lights were off for once. Dr. Quigley must actually sleep after all. Shepard wasn’t going to be able to sleep with marbles rolling around her head. Drowsy but sleepless was the worst combination. She made herself coffee.

She wasn’t surprised anymore when the spoon quivered in her hand as she stirred in the creamer. Alicia Mason had died from anaphylaxis over an allergy she didn’t know she had developed. What did Shepard not know about herself? 

She held up her shaking fingertips. Maybe it wasn’t just anxiety or low blood sugar. It happened here, on the crew deck, inside the dormant relay near the beam, and when the Normandy jumped active relays. None of that mattered as much as the fact: it was getting worse. She dropped the coffee spoon in the sink.

She wandered the mess hall, blowing the steam off her coffee, and ogling the XO’s door more than she should. She checked both lounges. They had members of the night crew. Three of the engineers were playing cards in the portside lounge and waved excitedly for her to join them. In the starboard lounge, she interrupted what may have been a couple skirting fraternization infringement. The two officers jumped away from each other in the corner of the room. Looking at upside down datapads, they casually glanced her direction as if just noticing her. She backed out of the doorway.

She sipped her coffee and was stopped by three names on the memorial wall. They were officers on Vega’s crew in her timeline. They weren’t dead, but here they were alongside Ashley Williams, Thane, and the rest of the lost. This was a different place. Amazing what ten years could change.

The life support room on her right had been Thane’s spot. Now she was looking at it, she noticed the green light in the corner. The whole time she’d been aboard, at least when she was paying attention, it had always been red: locked. Someone with authority had to unlock it. Shepard almost spilled coffee she moved so fast.

The doors opened, and she stepped inside. The room was dimmer than the hallway, air dryer, and the regular roar-roar-roar of the life support system rolled over her. The window ahead of her danced with thin blue light off the core. Sitting at the desk with his back to her was Kaidan. He was leaning on one elbow staring at the window and didn’t look over his shoulder at her, despite the opening and closing of the door. She frowned at his lack of reaction until she saw eyes in the reflection of the window, watching her.

“Fleet Admiral Spectre Alenko.” She came deeper into the room. She couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing him. “How are you feeling, Kaidan?”

He shrugged, still not looking directly at her. She set her coffee on the edge of the table.

“May I join you?”

His eyes met her gaze and then drifted back to the window. “Guess it’s on your list.”

She pulled the chair facing him around to the end of the table and sat. He gazed quietly out the window, but his eyes were further away than that. An unread message on his Omni-Tool flashed a green light across the table. More communication from Thessia perhaps?

“Want some coffee?” She held the cup out to him, then thought better of it. “I did drink a bit, but only off this side. Drink off that side and no cooties. It even has creamer, no sugar, strong. Just the way you like. Or . . . Maybe not?”

“I’m all right.”

“Might help your headache. Caffeine.” Shepard set the cup on the table and edged it toward him with her fingertips. 

“I know where to get some if I--”

“Aah! Then you do want some?”

“I don’t--”

“I’ll be right back.”

She returned with a second mug. The other one sat untouched by his elbow, but he was sitting up more in his chair now. He looked back at her when she entered. Granted, it was with a tired frown. Maybe this Kaidan didn’t like caffeine for his headaches.

“Straight black. No presumptions. Here.” She set it in front of him. “Better at least pretend to take it. Make me drink two cups, I’ll be bouncing off the walls.”

“Might hurt. These ones aren’t padded.” A slight smile played on the corners of his mouth.

“Want creamer?” She sat down and pulled packets of creamer from her pocket. “How many? One? Two?” She tossed them at him. “Three? Four?”

“Hell. How many of these did you take?”

“Five? Six?” She tossed the last one at him.

He scooped them up. “Six? Really?”

“You could have cut me off at any time.”

“But six?” Kaidan tossed her back five of the packets. His Omni-Tool’s green message light blinked into his coffee as he tore the packet of creamer and then rolled the coffee around his mug. Steam curled around his face when he took a sip.

“You’re off duty?” Shepard asked.

“Doc said twenty-four hours. I’ve slept enough. I’m feeling fine.” He hesitated for a moment then looked directly at her. “Did you do something to me? Back when I had the migraine. Something that made it feel better?”

Shepard shifted under his scrutiny. There was no use denying it. 

“Why?” she said at last. “You want me try it again? You’re still--”

“No,” Kaidan said sharply. “Then you did do something?”

“Uh, well . . . Just thought it might work. It did.”

“Hmm . . .” He eyed her a second and then slumped back in his seat and sipped his coffee.

“You seem a little rundown,” Shepard observed and drank a hot gulp of coffee.

“Tired but not tired.” 

“Tired but not tired,” Shepard echoed and twisted in her seat to face the window. The reflection made her smile: Kaidan sitting beside her, coffee steaming in both their hands. “You want to talk?”

He looked sideways at her. “About what?” His voice had an edge.

“Nothing deep, dark, and secret.” She met his eyes with a smile. “Just normal stuff. You spend much time on the Citadel? Or in Vancouver?”

“No,” he said simply and turned back to the window.

“All right.” Shepard folded her legs and bobbed her foot in thought. “Orian Station then, right? Terminus System. Near the Transverse. Probably got some batarian population on the station. What’s your favorite place for batarian balsiquor?”

“What?” His face scrunched. “I’d take an expired MRE before eating at a batarian joint.”

“Batarian food does leave something to be desired.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes as if that was an understatement. Shepard drew her knee onto the chair and twisted to face him.

“Batarian balsiquor, though?” she asked.

“That some hard liquor?” Kaidan asked with a sigh and looked over at her.

Shepard half-laughed, half-choked. “You’ve never-- You’re serious? You’re not just messing with me? All right, Kaidan. If this is the only thing you get personally out of the entire trip, here is my advice: pick yourself up a bottle of batarian balsiquor, clear your schedule, and you’ll remember forever the conversation we’re having right now.”

“You tried to get me to drink krogan ryncol 190 proof once.” 

That was the night of Garrus’s party ten years ago. That had happened for this Kaidan, too, then.

“This isn’t ryncol.”

“I don’t drink hard alcohol.” He turned his eyes away.

“You? Since when?” Shepard stared at him.

“A few months, all right?” He sighed. “Why do we have to talk at all?”

A few months ago was after Liara’s death.

“We don’t have to talk.” Shepard dropped her feet to the ground, slouched back in her chair, and drank her coffee.

The silence was comfortable, at least, to her. The heat of the coffee flushed in her skin, and she wasn’t by herself for once. Even if he was a ghost of who she wanted, he was here with her now, the closest thing she had to home.

“Shepard?” Kaidan turned the mug around in his hands solemnly and looked at her hesitantly. “Did you not mean to do that to me on Illium? It wasn’t intentional. I misread it?”

Shepard hesitated, holding his eye. “I don’t know, Kaidan.”

“You don’t know?” Kaidan whispered with a frown, then turned back to the window. “Were you that drunk? You didn’t seem that drunk. I remember it, and I was drunk. Do I remember it wrong?”

Shepard let out a long breath. His brow was pinched deep, eyes staring forward through the window, and the mug steaming in his hands on his lap.

“I hurt you. I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He looked over sharply. “You said you don’t remember. How can you be sorry?”

“I’d be sorry for anything that hurt you.” Shepard tried to smile, but his face was too hard.

He looked away. “It was my own fault. Partly. I think that's why it hurt. I hated myself. I hate myself more now than I even did then. Wish I could take it back. I made the mistake. I thought . . .” His throat bobbed in a hard swallow, knuckles whitening on his mug, his eyes lost in the window.

“Thought what?” Shepard whispered.

“I thought you cared for me.” He glanced over at her, eyes shining with a wet film. “I cared about you. I thought I was safe with you. And you lied to me. I can’t even understand what you were after. Hurt Liara? But why through me? Was I just collateral damage? Or was it about me? I can’t understand why you’d . . . I never would have done that to you. Your vulnerabilities, I’d protect you from them, even if I had to hurt myself. But you saw mine and used it. You let me despise myself.”

Shepard’s chest crumbled inward. “Kaidan . . .”

She touched his arm, but he pulled away and stood.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he murmured. 

The door closed behind him leaving Shepard alone in the dark.

***

In her cabin, Shepard sat on the edge of her bed and stared down at the empty coffee cup in her hands. Worse than Kaidan being angry and cutting was Kaidan being torn up and hurt. She had hurt him. Somehow. She put the coffee cup down on her nightstand and fell over into bed. The stars stretched overhead in the vastness of space. Her body grew heavy, and the starlight faded away under her drooping eyelids.

***

_ Illium. Beautiful at dusk.  _

_ Shepard leaned on the balcony railing. The urban sprawl of glittering neon and streaming trafficways spread below her. In her fingertips, she twisted a black datachip with the Alliance’s emblem. Yes, Illium was beautiful at dusk. _


	15. Falling Twilight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! Hopefully, everyone is starting to recover from the holiday season. If your last few weeks have been as hectic as mine, then I'm sure you're just as relieved to be done. I'll be back to posting on weekends with the next update.

**CHAPTER 15: Falling Twilight**

_Shepard stood on a high-rise balcony overlooking Nos Lutius. Illium’s sun set in a brilliant explosion of ruby and gold over the glass skyscrapers. Urban walkways burst with business people. Luxurious skycars, some probably rivalring the cost of a warship, zipped below her on the way to the city’s exclusive nightclubs. Or perhaps the sequin and silk crowd were on their way to one of the obscenely expensive penthouse restaurants where the entire monthly salary of an enlisted Alliance serviceman bought a mixed drink. Amid the roar of politics, credits, and capitalism was the placid amethylst waters of Nos Lutius’s lake, the emerald patches of city parks, and elaborated landscaped estates along the beach. Illium in its twilight glory._

_A datachip with the Alliance emblem rotated in Shepard’s fingertips. This was the one she’d left in Liara’s office so many months ago as a decoy. Now Shepard had it back after it ponged off her face. Liara’s aim had been true. It had hit Shepard square between the eyes. Shepard had caught it before it ricocheted onto the polished granite flooring and broke. Not that it would haven’t mattered. It was empty. Shepard hurled it out into the city._

_Her room was on one of the top floors of the hotel. The Alliance didn’t skimp when it was a diplomatic conference of this importance. What she could bring to the Citadel’s rebuilding efforts were beyond her. Doing colony wellness checks aboard the Normandy sounded like more fun than days of meetings in the hotel’s ballroom. Shepard’s XO got all the fun assignments._

_Shepard rubbed the tight space between her eyebrows. It didn’t hurt, but she could still feel the plastic pinging off her skull. Liara’s eyes had flashed when she threw it. Hurt bleeding into her words._

_“I trusted you! Why?”_

_Shepard said the only thing she could say. “Because it’s the truth. He deserved to know.”_

_In truth, that was only part of the reason she had taken Liara’s datachip and left the empty datachip as a decoy. Only part of the reason she downloaded Liara’s data onto her Omni-Tool with a mix of shock and vindication. Only part of the reason she emailed it in an attachment. If she had truly been only championing the truth, she wouldn’t have used an alias email account for the message. He didn’t need to know it was her. It was a shame Liara had figured it out on her side. Shepard should have just taken the datachip instead of replaced it with the other one. She should have known Liara had the resources to determine the decoy chip’s source, even with its data erased._

_The decoy datachip was long gone now. It may have dinged off five different skycar’s windshields, broken a glass tile in the roof of a restaurant, perhaps hit someone dead center in their head while taking a bite of steak. Who knew? At this point, who cared? It was done. The real datachip with Liara’s data was still safely secured in Shepard’s luggage. What Shepard had needed from it was already accomplished._

_Light flashed in the corner of Shepard’s vision. Ah, the great Thessian Republic Bank. The blue glass skyscraper was iconic. Shepard could have thrown the datachip its direction and taken out someone’s office window. It was so close to her balcony. Then again, she was on camera. A blinking light gave away a lens pointed her direction overseeing one of the bank’s landpads. Shepard drew back into the balcony’s corner, away from the lens, and fell back on a cushioned loveseat. She’d get enough camera time at the convention. She didn’t need it in a private space._

_***_

_Shepard cut across one of Nos Lutius’s parks. The park was a vibrant green with mossy grass under a canopy of giant willows, or what looked like willow trees. The silver tree trunks stood bright in the sunset’s falling light._

_Shepard would be walking back from the Wine Cellar in the dark at the rate it was setting. She hoped someone tried to mug her. Unfortunately, the park looked too manicured for crime. This was the “right” part of town. Perhaps if she looked drunk, wine bottles in hand, someone might give it a go despite the wellbred onlookers and carefully trimmed hedges. It wouldn’t be much of a contest though. For them. If she actually was tipsy, it might serve to advertise for a fight and make it more fair. Something to consider._

_She had the right alcohol back in her hotel room to have made her trip through the park more interesting. She had made this same trip the day before in the daylight. The wine she bought had been surprisingly strong. It hit it harder than straight vodka. Watching her expensive banquet dinner go down the drain had been a lovely, lovely way to spend day two of five in Nos Lutius. She thought talking Citadel plumbing, lighting grids, and commercial layouts was nauseating. Turned out, it didn’t compare to her wine choice. She needed something lighter now, and the minibar required half her net worth for a tame sample. She’d left the heavy-hitter wine on the counter, but now she wished she’d taken a sip. Getting mugged while drunk would, at least, make it interesting._

_“Shepard!”_

_The familiar voice brought her to a jarring stop. Her heart picked up pace. She turned to the footsteps crunching up the pebble path behind her. It was him._

_“Kaidan,” she said, tone flat from shock._

_“Hey, Shepard.” Kaidan’s smile was strong and warm, making her heart pound harder against her ribs. His gaze was clear and direct, no hint of anger. Liara must not have told him about Shepard stealing her datachip. Shepard had already decided on her strategy to placate him after he heard the news from Liara. It was the same thing she had already told Liara. She thought he’d appreciate knowing the truth, she would say. Sending the data to him anonymously was only to keep herself out of their affairs._

_“Kaidan, this is a surprise,” she said._

_She had only seen him once in the span of four years. That was at Vega’s wedding. They kept in contact to a small degree. It was her fault. She didn’t return comm calls and only replied to every other email. After a while, the calls stopped coming and the emails became fewer and fewer. Their friendship hurt too much. There was nothing to say. It was better to avoid awkward conversations and taint what was, than struggle to create something new that wouldn’t satisfy._

_“It’s good to see you,” he said._

_He pulled her into a hug. Her spine went straight. Her arms barely unfroze in time to give him a weak pat before he had drawn back. He was still smiling._

_“What are you doing here?” Shepard stammered._

_“I’m on leave. What are you doing here? I didn’t see the Normandy was docked.”_

_“Citadel Reconstruction Conference. The Normandy unloaded me like cargo, and then my XO took the wheel. Five days of arguing over contractor bids. I’m ecstatic.”_

_“Citadel Reconstruction Conference? I did notice a lot of VIPs about.”_

_“VIP-watching in the park, huh?” Shepard shoved her hands awkwardly in her pockets for want of anything better to do with them._

_“VIP Park Bingo. Bought my card from the hotdog vendor by the fountain. I’m in luck. You’re the center square.”_

_“Must not be that lucky. Didn’t hear a ‘bingo.’”_

_“Still need Counicor Ilk. Not hopeful.”_

_“I wouldn’t hold out. Two days hunched over his datapad on stage, I haven’t seen him move once. Hologram or dead? I’m waiting for day five before I go up and find out. Until then, debating the possibilities is my only form of entertainment.”_

_“Why do they want you there?”_

_“Maybe they get a cut of the sales from the hot dog vendor’s bingo cards.”_

_“Straight to the truth.”_

_He grinned and pushed his hands into his pockets too. Damn, he looked good. He was in civvies. A cotton shirt clung to his biceps and hinted at the muscles on his chest. The humidity had his dark hair slightly frizzy, but in a way that made her want to run her fingers through it and straighten it long past it already being in order. If he’d gotten grayer or developed more laugh lines, she couldn’t tell. It could have been any day during the war, except he was relaxed and wearing sandals. In comparison to him, her uniform felt heavy and staunchy. The heat off the sunset and insect humming around them made her want to be in sandals too._

_“Why’re you really in the park?” she asked._

_“Crossing to the beach.” He nodded in the direction of the crimsoning sky._

_“You don’t have a towel.”_

_“Didn’t think the hotel would approve taking their bath towels.”_

_Hotel. Her breathing came faster. He wasn’t staying with Liara then._

_“I’ll join you,” Shepard said. “I was just walking around after sitting all day.”_

_He returned an eager smile that touched his eyes. It reminded her of old times. By the time they reached the beach, the sun had narrowed to a thin line burning on the purple water. The sky burst red with its dimming flame. It was beautiful. Kaidan seemed to appreciate it, smiling, arms folded, feet in the sand. That is, if you could call it sand. Shepard had never seen anything like it._

_Glass stones, saturated in multiple colors, clear and smooth: they glittered on the beach where there should have been grains of sand. Shepard untied her boots, stuffed her socks inside, and threw them beside Kaidan’s abandoned sandals. She stepped into the slippery, rolling layers of sea glass. They were cool to the touch._

_“This is incredible.” Shepard laughed._

_It was amazing to be standing beside him, sunset blinding their faces, feet in this glass sand, color all around them._

_“You’ve never been down here?” Kaidan asked. “You’ve been to Nos Lutius before though?”_

_“I never went beyond the skyscrapers. Yesterday was the first time I’d been in one of the park. It’s beautiful here.”_

_The sunset glittering across a beach of translucent colored glass was truly breathtaking. The beach was empty except for the lapping waves and a few figures in the far distance walking the other direction. Skyscrapers glistened behind them, reflecting sharp, red pinpricks of light from the sun._

_“No one comes down here?” Shepard asked._

_“Weekdays? Not much. Nos Lutius isn’t exactly bulging with families. It’s not a leisure destination. Too many credits exchanging hands for anyone to take a break.”_

_“Set up some resorts along the waterline here, they could have more credits exchanging hands.” As far as she couldn’t see there wasn’t a single resort in sight along the water. The skyscrapers were a good distance set in from shore. A few estates spanned the waterline, but even they weren’t abutting the beach directly._

_“The water.” Kaidan nodded down at it. “There’s algae -- well, something like algae -- that gives it the purple color. When it blooms, which it does a few days a week, it smells like sewage. Sulfur. That’s what the fans are for.”_

_Shepard hadn’t noticed the slender turbines buffering the skyscrapers from the seaside. Some of the walled estates had their own turbines mounted around the house._

_Shepard drew in a deep breath. “This must be one of the good nights, then?”_

_“Yep. A good night.” Kaidan shuffled through the tinkling sea glass._

_Shepard followed after him, the stones sliding under her feet. He stopped at the water’s edge and touched his toes into the water._

_“You’re not really getting in, are you?” Shepard asked hesitantly. He wasn’t dressed for it, but that only made the idea more interesting if he did plan to swim._

_Kaidan laughed brightly. “No. You don’t swim here. You’d regret it.”_

_“But your toes won’t regret it?” Shepard waved at his feet._

_“I’m not in deep. Water ebbs and flows here. Try it.”_

_Shepard edged her toes into the water. Her breath caught._

_“It’s warm.”_

_“Yep.” Kaidan beamed at her. “I wouldn’t go any further though. Not unless you like purple hives.”_

_“If it gets me out of two more days of discussing Citadel plumbing . . .”_

_“Oh, it would. Especially once the algae started to bloom in your skin.”_

_Shepard jerked back from the water. Kaidan laughed._

_“You’re messing with me.” She glared._

_“No. I’m not. But, seriously, nothing’s going to happen to your toes. Not where the water moves.”_

_Shepard grazed the warm water with her toes again. Kaidan smiled over at her, still watching her, the side of his face red from the sunset._

_“You’re on Illium a lot?” Shepard asked._

_“Fair amount. It’s close to the Terminus System.”_

_“But you’re on leave. Why not Earth?”_

_“I came to see Liara.” He turned back to the sunset and squinted. “She left.”_

_“Left?” Shepard said. Liara had thrown the datachip at her head only a few days ago in her Nos Lutius broker office._

_“Left the planet. I stepped onto the dock. She had left minutes before. Should have known, I guess. She’s the Shadow Broker. She wasn’t returning my messages.”_

_“Why would she do that?” Shepard shifted on her feet. She knew why, but there was something satisfying in the thought of hearing him say it._

_“She’s upset with me.” He scooped a handful of glassy stones into his palm._

_“_ She’s _upset with_ you _?” Shepard echoed with a frown. It’s not what she expected him to say._

_“Yeah.” He released a heavy sigh and picked through the glassy rocks in his hand. He evaluated a large, chunky piece then dropped it back onto the beach. He settled on a disc-shaped one. He met Shepard’s eyes. “I said some things I wish I hadn’t. I want to apologize, but . . .” He slung the stone skipping across the water. “She won’t see me.”_

_“You and Liara . . .” Shepard’s heart thumped. The question she’d been wanting to ask since she saw him was on the tip on her tongue. She bent to scoop her own handful of stones and kept her voice light and casual. “You and Liara are over then?”_

_“No.”_

_Shepard’s heart knotted into her throat. Her fingertips paused digging through the stones._

_“At least, I don’t think so,” he said. “I think we can work this out. I want to, anyway. If she’d see me.”_

_Shepard picked out a red stone the length of her pinkie. She slung it into the water with a bit too much force. It hit the water in a burst of purple water and shot straight to the bottom leaving a single, widening ripple._

_Kaidan clicked his tongue. “Got to snap with your wrist. It’s like a frisbee, not going long with a football. You’ve never skipped rocks?”_

_“You really think you can work things out then?” Shepard picked up two more stones. “Must not be anything big then?” She rolled the stones around her fingers and eyed him sideways._

_He frowned into the sunset, the fistfull of stones forgotten limp at his side. He caught her watching him and flashed a quick smile. “Nothing that can’t be worked out.”_

_Shepard’s stone exploded into the water in a splash of waves and aftershock ripples._

_“Frisbee, Shepard,” Kaidan chidded and elbowed her._

_She returned a sharp jab in his direction with her elbow. “Threw it further than any of yours.”_

_“I wasn’t going for distance.” Kaidan rummaged on the shore. He weighed a round stone of green glass in his hand then backed up and chucked it. It arched into the horizon. Shepard squinted into the sun and watched it land in a plop of waves in the far distance._

_“You always bite off more than you can chew challenging me to stuff.” Shepard eyed him._

_His goofy grin stirred old feeling and memories. She looked away sharply, backed up in the glassy sand, and hurled her other stone through the air. It was large and plum-colored, easily visible as it arched against the sky, going long. The stone flashed with blue light. It’s arch cut off. It plopped straight down into the water._

_Kaidan tisked. “Shame. So close.”_

_Shepard spun to face him. “Cheater.”_

_“What? It was a fair block. Not my fault you left mine wide open.”_

_“Using your biotics as a crutch to win? Lame, Kaidan.”_

_“All right.” Kaidan dug around the sea glass and held up two similarly shaped flat stones. “Which one do you want?”_

_Shepard reached for the aquamarine-colored stone. Their fingers brushed. Goosebumps prickled up her arm. If he felt anything, he didn’t show it, idly examining his orange stone._

_“Okay. Fair’s, fair. Let’s see if you can skip a rock biotically further than I can without using biotics.”_

_“If I win, we’ll only be tied.” Shepard held the clear blue-green glass up to the fading sun. The sky’s red vibrance was starting to fade with the deepening of twilight._

_“We’re creative. I’m sure we can figure out a tie breaker.” Kaidan’s smile was soft and bright all at once when he looked at her._

_She hated what this was doing to her. Her heart beat in her throat feeling both heavy-leaded and arrhythmic. Would he smell like she remembered if she was close enough? She should have paid attention when he’d hugged her. She wished he’d hug her again. It had been years since the war when they were together, but that wound ached more than any of the physical war wounds she’d suffered._

_“Cheaters first.” Shepard extended an arm toward the water._

_“I already went first. Besides, seeing how you do, my old wrist sprain may start acting up. Have to bow out early.”_

_Shepard rolled her eyes, tossed her stone in the air, and caught it . She slung it across the top of the water. Blue light fluoresced over the surface of the stone. Shepard reached out her hand guiding it in a rippling string of jumps. The further out, the weaker her grip became on the small, slippery stone. It dropped into the water._

_“Did you count?” Kaidan asked._

_“Fifteen.” Shepard clasped her hands behind her back and looked over at him._

_“I counted sixteen,” he said._

_“The last one counts? It didn’t technically skip.”_

_“Huh. Well, no refs around to clarify.” Kaidan held his stone up. “Doubt it’ll matter.”_

_Kaidan threw the stone with force. It hurled out across the water, barely clipping the surface with two skips, before disappearing below the waves. Shepard had to squint to see the ripples that far out._

_“Kaidan,” Shepard laughed. “Good thing for you there aren’t spectators with tomatoes. That skipped once. Twice if I’m generous with the last ripple.”_

_“But it did skip,” Kaidan said firmly._

_Shepard faced him. “I was going to block. Sink your stone at the first ripple. Now I don't have the satisfaction of cheating or a fair win.”_

_“It wasn’t very fair.” Kaidan agreed and studied the water with a thoughtful expression. “I’ll let you try again, if you want. I’m in a good mood.”_

_“What?” Shepard narrowed her eyes._

_“The challenge was who could skip the furthest. You barely made twenty meters, Shepard.”_

_Shepard hardened her stare on his growing grin._

_“Seriously, I’ll let you try again,” he said._

_“I want to biotically skip you across the water.” She jabbed a finger at him._

_“I’m pretty heavy. Don’t think you’ll get much further than the first try.”_

_“From now on, I want the fine print rules of your challenge.”_

_“The misunderstanding was actually in the large type section: the basic single-sentence premise of the game. Sure, though, fine print if you want it next time. Told you we didn’t need a tie breaker.”_

_The last rusty rays of light were darkening on the water. A breeze stirred Shepard’s hair. Her feet suddenly felt cold in the tinkling glass._

_“So, what does the winner get?” Shepard asked. “Hope it’s not the glory. You shouldn’t take much pride in those snake-like tactics, Kaidan.”_

_He laughed and shrugged. “Got to beat you in something once in a while.”_

_“You beat me all the time. Drag out a secured control panel or a shuttle needing piloted. Something requiring long-range, fine biotic manipulation. A calculus equation.”_

_“Barriers, target aiming, ingenuity, vision, leadership.” Kaidan’s lips curled deep into his cheeks. “Stop me. We’ll be here all night.”_

_“Well, to celebrate you beating me, why don’t you let me get you a drink?”_

_“Sure. Where are you thinking?”_

_“I did some grocery shopping at the Wine Cellar yesterday, and I have a full minibar. Come back with me. Let’s catch up.”_

_Kaidan’s smile faltered. “Uh, I know some good downtown pubs.”_

_The sudden alertness in his eyes made Shepard smile quickly. “Sounds perfect. Lead the way, Admiral.”_

_Kaidan’s smile warmed again. “That still sounds weird.”_

_The crease in his brow hadn’t melted away completely. She put a bounce in her voice._

_“Let’s go, and you can tell me all about the coronation.”_

_Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah, well, they decide you should take on more responsibility and break the news with a fancy title upgrade and a handshake.”_

_“King of the Terminus System.”_

_“Becoming that way. Worry for the day, they want an emperor.”_

_Kaidan led Shepard across the shoreline to where their shoes waited. Shepard’s inside twisted studying his profile in the dying light. Hit a pub, set a comfortable tone, down some drinks -- maybe that crease in his brow would fade. They were friends after all. She just needed to remind him of it. Friends._

_***_

It was the first good dream she remembered having since she woke up here. Good might not even be the right word for it. It was probably more accurate to say it wasn’t a bad dream. She’d be satisfied with ‘not bad.’ It had been Illium. Something more must have happened she wasn’t remembering.

She pulled herself out of bed. For fifteen years, she had slept with the same man. For fifteen years, she hadn’t felt alone. Kaidan wasn’t just the closest person in her life but the longest deep connection. Family, which should have held her longests real relationships, had been taken from her when she was sixteen. So many of those years she was too young to even remember. Even Anderson was gone. Kaidan had surpassed every other mortal tie. He was the foundational constant for her life. 

Before Kaidan, she had contact lists of friends for every port. Wild parties only added more names to the list. One night stands or several months-long affairs. She had so many friends and lovers she lost track of them. Then she had found the Normandy and real friendship. 

Out of all the people who loved her and whom she loved back, there was Kaidan, the one person who truly knew her. In this universe, this timeline, she was back to the old normal: alone. The person who saw through her layers and self-lies, who cared more about her than anyone ever had, he was gone. She was by herself again. But for last night in the dream, for a while, it had felt like he was still here. Even having woken, the warm feeling hung with her like savoring a favorite flavor fading on her tongue. 

She drew a deep breath. Enough simpering over memories and dreams. She needed to achieve real tasks. The empty fish tank lit her footsteps to the bathroom. She stopped at her desk. A message light blinked on the computer terminal. There were two messages in her encrypted inbox. The first was from enigmatic Azrael.

_“Shepard? What’s going on? Do you need help?”_

She was tired of playing games. She collapsed onto her chair. She typed back the simple message: 

_“I’m fine. Now tell me who you are.”_

She pushed send. The second message made her core go cold. It was unmarked, but she knew who it was: Cicero.

_“Last chance. Give me the flight plan.”_

She deleted the message. She needed some food in her stomach to combat the sick feeling in her gut. Cicero had yet to do anything impressively evil or wrong, but there was something about him that unsettled her. Kaidan took anything related to Cicero with an air of high alarm. She’d never seen Kaidan so painstakingly wary and on edge, almost to the point paranoia. Perhaps it was an eccentricity of this Kaidan. Perhaps it wasn’t. She did her morning routine and headed to the elevator.

***

Shepard entered the mess hall. Kaidan was just coming out of the med bay. He looked worn, but more clear-eyed and pulled together than he had last night.

“Back on duty?” she asked.

“Yes. What do you need?”

“Breakfast.”

There was a sizable portion of the crew buzzing around the mess hall tables, finding chairs and slapping down food trays. Voices rolled over each other with a few punctuating laughs from the morning birds. Meanwhile, the night owls hunched over their eggs with lazy eyes and slow-moving forks. 

Two soldiers came around the bend from the elevator. They stopped short of bumping into Shepard and snapped Kaidan a salute. They hesitated but both turned their eyes to Shepard and extended the salute to her too. Kaidan returned the salute, and the soldiers edged around them into the mess hall.

“Saluting me right in front of you,” Shepard said. “They must feel pretty safe with you.”

“I’m not going to come down on them. Only a few weeks ago, you were their commanding officer. You’re still a Spectre.”

He moved to the elevator. Shepard followed after him. He pushed the elevator button and eyed her sideways.

“Do you need something else besides breakfast?” he asked.

“When are you doing when you get off?”

“Sleep. I recommend it.”

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. They still had two days before reaching the relay and evacuating krogan space. Once they hit the Serpent Nebula, they could go to FTL again. But, for now, they had time to kill.

“Offer still stands,” Shepard said. “Like I said, I have books downloaded on my Omni-Tool. I’m all set to ignore you and just exist in the same vicinity. And by vicinity, I mean the starboard lounge.”

Kaidan smiled lopsidedly and punched the button for his floor. “I recommend sleep. If you want to read all night, by all means. If you need me, comm me.”

The doors slid shut. Shepard frowned. She needed to let his dismissiveness slide off. A few more days, all this alone time would be history. She walked to the mess hall for breakfast.

***

Shepard gazed out the starboard lounge’s window. Her Omni-Tool screen glowed in her lap with words she’d ceased reading. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

The lounge doors opened. She spun around and looked over the back of the bench. It was nearing the end of Kaidan’s off-duty shift. She’d spent all day checking her message screen, examining her model ships, and haunting the mess hall. She’d even gotten Joker to play cards with her at dinner. Now, it was hours later, and she’d nearly come full circle. It was almost time for breakfast again. She’d given up seeing Kaidan.

“Kaidan.”

He was already in uniform, shaved, hair styled but a bit damp looking. He rounded the opposite side of the bench and sat with a datapad in hand.

“Ah, brought equipment for the ignoring option, I see.” Shepard motioned at his datapad. “You should have come sooner. We could have been ignoring each other for hours by now.”

Kaidan turned on the datapad. “I was giving you time to get into your book. Wanted the vicinity properly set for ignoring.”

“Well, you took too long. I finished my book.” Shepard clicked off her Omni-Tool.

Kaidan eyed her. “Guess you should have picked a series.”

“I did. Alliance News Tribune. Volume 23 from November? Sensational.”

“A little out of date, don’t you think?”

“All the classics are.”

Kaidan turned his eyes back to the datapad. “Your definition of the word ‘book’ is a little off. Suggest you read the dictionary next, Chapter ‘B’.”

Shepard folded her legs on the bench and faced him. “I know the definition of ‘brat’.” 

“Little self-absorbed, isn’t it? Only reading your own entry.”

“You’re such a smart ass.” Shepard laughed and put an elbow on her knee. She rested her chin on a fist and studied him. “You actually reading that, or is it just a prop?”

He turned the datapad to her with a flat expression then returned it to his lap.

“Doesn’t mean you’re reading it,” she said.

“Because you’re talking to me.”

“It’s more likely because _you’re_ talking to _me_ than _me_ talking to _you_. If I’m talking to you, you can still read and ignore me, but if you decide to talk back . . .”

He didn’t say anything and concentrated on his datapad. Shepard strained to see the screen again. She could barely make out the top words.

“You’re reading about the relays? I thought I saw that curious gleam in your eyes when we got the Shard. You scanned the relay’s beam, right?”

“Ions and water droplets suspended in diffuse dark energy. Traces of eezo, but only while the Shard was suspended. The beam changed after taking the Shard. You noticed that, right?”

“And what does your article say about the relay?”

“Theories on how the mass relays activate. No one’s been in the main chamber during a jump, but it’s theorized the beam conducts electrical energy to activate the Shard. The ship jumps space and time. Appears at the connecting relay.”

“Space and time? Only seconds pass in the jump. But you’re always still in the same galaxy, same . . . timeline.”

“Of course.” Kaidan gave her a funny look. 

“Your cousin believes the Shard exists in more than one dimension.”

“Rebecca? Her work is interesting, but I’m not so much concerned with multiverse theories. I just want to know how the relay works.”

“She doesn’t believe in the multiverse. She believes in finite branches of reality.”

“Since we’re discussing articles.” Kaidan angled toward her. “Amplifying someone’s biotic energy. I looked it up.”

“And?”

“It’s rare. Some asarai have managed it. Read about two drells. No humans. Or not documented anyway. How’d you learn it?”

“Just figured it out.” Shepard pulled her legs in tighter and flashed a quick smile.

“Hell of a lot of work to develop something obscure like that. Is it even useful to you? You haven’t had any other biotics on your ship for years. Who’s biotics would you Amplify?”

Shepard shrugged noncommittally. Kaidan put an elbow on the back of the bench and brushed a finger across his lips.

“You’d need another biotic to train with to learn something like that.”

Silence stretched between them. Kaidan watched her with sharp eyes.

“That a question or a statement?” Shepard drummed her fingers on her knee. “You’re waiting for something?”

“A statement with a question.”

“Then, yes, dead on. You’d need another biotic to practice on.”

“There are rumors about you, you know. Riffraff in the Terminus System say you practice a biotic skill forbidden by the asari.”

“Riffraff rumors? That’s quite a drop from science journal in source quality.”

“Hmm. True.” Kaidan gave a limp shrug.

“Amplify isn’t ‘forbidden.’” Whatever that meant in regards to biotics.

“True. It didn’t seem like it from what I read. Just . . . Makes you wonder where they got the rumor.”

“I’m sure there’s an article with gossip about it somewhere. Ask the extranet.”

He gave a crooked smile. “All right. Different question then. This Amplify skill, it only works part of the time?”

“No. It only works on you part of the time.”

“Because I blocked you? I lashed back at you or whatever?”

“Or whatever.” Shepard rolled her hand allowing for possibilities.

“Do you think you could do it again?” He studied her intently.

“With you? No. Not unless you’re cartwheeling through space again or some other edge-of-death scenario. Otherwise, you’ll block me reflexively.”

“What about with another biotic then? Wrex maybe?”

“Wouldn’t work.” Shepard sighed.

“Why not? Has to be human?”

Shepard rested her temple tiredly against a fist. “What did your research say?”

“The skill’s unusual.”

“Why?”

“Difficult to learn maybe.”

“Partly. What else?”

“You need to be skilled with biotic barriers?”

“Not related.”

“It takes an exceptionally powerful biotic?”

“Again, only part. Come on. Who were the examples you saw? What asari and drell were able to do it? Could they Amplify any biotic?”

Kaidan’s eyes slid to his datapad. He lifted it in one hand and flipped through pages with his thumb. He read in silence. Shepard stood and leaned sideways against the window and studied the stars.

“Pairs?” Kaidan said.

“Familiarity.”

The datapad lowered in his hand. “You and I aren’t familiar.”

His statement had sharpness if expecting her to contradict it. When she looked over at him, the same sharpness was reflected in his eyes.

“Guess I just got lucky then,” Shepard said.

“That can’t be a limiting factor. There are plenty of biotics who are close. Who are familiar. Asari bondmates can be together for centuries, and they’re not using Amplify.”

“What does the extranet say?“

Kaidan frowned. It was more than familiarity or time spent in each other’s company. It was something in the basic bedrock of her being that locked like a puzzle piece with the most basic part of him. They understood each other in a way that time and proximity couldn’t create. 

“Admiral?” Joker’s voice came on the comm overhead.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Message from Thessia for you, sir.”

Kaidan’s face darkened. “In my room.”

He snatched his datapad off the bench, not even sparing Shepard a final look, and shot to the door. He was sliding through the doors before they had even fully opened.

Shepard shuffled to the elevator and practically fell into bed. She’d been awake almost twelve hours. She turned out the light with a short command and slid her legs under the covers. 

Again, she was in Illium. But this time, it wasn’t a good dream. It was a dream which would haunt her the rest of her life.


	16. Nightfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning (see end notes for specifics)

**CHAPTER 16: Nightfall**

_ Shepard’s hotel room smelled like lavender and lemon-scented cleaner. She groped on the wall by the door until she found the light switch. The end table’s lamp flashed on revealing a cream-colored sitting area with artfully placed exotic floral arrangements. Her re-corked wine bottle was neatly oriented on the counter over the mini bar. Stemmed glasses sparkled, freshly washed. The faux-wood floor reflected light in its finished polish. Through the doorway to her right was the plush, four-poster bed freshened with fluffed pillows and tucked sheets. Shepard tore her eyes away from that quickly and pivoted to face Kaidan. _

_ “The Alliance is paying for this?” Kaidan wandered to a vase of something similar to tiger lilies. A light blue dye tinted the water with clear marbles holding the stems in place. He gawked at the crystal chandelier over the coffee table. “Parliament struck down Orian’s budget request for upgraded sewer lines. Now I see why.” _

_ “Hey. I just say set up camp where they say.” _

_ The hallway lights slid away with the door closing at her back. The low light of the single lamp gave the room a soft feel. Intimate. _

_ “Think we could get in trouble for me coming up here?” Kaidan asked, no anxiety in the question, only an easy smile loosened from their tour of the pubs. _

_ “I don’t have the target I once had. They’d be pretty lost without their Alliance mascot. Plus, I think it gives them a little thrill in telling me what to do.” _

_ “I’ve heard things. Sounds like you take your own orders.” _

_ “Uh, sometimes. I follow enough of the order, they can’t precisely say I didn’t. I’m becoming good at finding loopholes, or at least, bringing back a conciliatory prize to soften the act of rebellion.” _

_ “See. Knew I shouldn’t feel bad for the rock throwing contest. You’re a hardened loop-hole finder yourself.” He staggered against the couch a little on his way to the sliding glass doors. _

_ “I imagine you’re a Parliament favorite in the Alliance family portrait,” Shepard said. _

_ Kaidan peered through the glass sliders. With his back to her, he was only a silhouette against the sequined lights of the skyscrapers and the moons gleaming low in the sky. _

_ “I suppose Parliament likes me well enough,” Kaidan said. “Just took a few run-ins with the shock collar to know my Spectre boundaries.” _

_ “Bitter?” _

_ “I’ve got pretty free rein in the Terminus System. A win-win really. I think Parliament’s less scared of our role as Spectres now.” _

_ “Guess so, especially if they’re wanting you to pull a chair up to the table.” _

_ “Hey.” Kaidan slid the glass door open and bumped against the doorframe turning to face her. “That’s between you and me.” _

_ “See anyone else here?” _

_ “Just pretend I never told you that. It’s still a ways off and depends on the Terminus System getting sector status. I’m not even sure I want it.” He shuffled out onto the dark balcony. _

_ Shepard moved to the counter and opened the minifridge. After hours of chatting and catching up, a few rounds of drinks, the pubs had started to close. This time Kaidan had latched onto her suggestion of returning to her room, no shifty reservations or lip chewing. It was just friends extending their conversation. _

_ The surrealness of his outline waiting for her on the balcony made her heart stutter. She paused twisting the cap on a fist-sized bottle of wine. He cut a good shape in the moonlight, shoulders broad with a tapered leanness in the muscles of his back. She remembered the feel of digging her fingers into the lines of his back, the pinewood smell of his hair in her face, the sounds he made in her ear. She shivered.  _

_ Her insides were still knotted from the brush of his breath on her face when he bent over the pub table laughing. The press of his tight against her as he reached for their drinks, the husky tone of voice, his warm brown eyes, it was overwhelming. She could imagine the hooded dark eyes and heavy breaths if she could touch him again. She wanted to do more than imagine it. _

_ She half-cracked the seal on the mini bottle of red wine in her hands. The second one she’d pulled from the fridge was at her elbow on the counter. Shepard’s eyes strayed to the wine bottle against the wall, cork jammed back in the neck. It was the one she’d opened the night before. She could still taste it mixed with the acidic burn of vomit. She’d only had two glasses. It had a slow, hard hit that had crept up on her after the second glass and sent her rushing to empty her stomach. Two glasses was too much. One glass though . . . _

_ Her heart pounded. She poured red wine from the little bottle into one of the glasses. She touched the base of the empty stemmed glass, mind reeling, and felt an echo of that prickling heat when their fingers brushed on the beach dividing the seaglass.  _

_ Kaidan was still looking out over the railing at the city. She thrust the second mini bottle of wine back into the fridge and grabbed the wine bottle against the wall. Not giving herself a moment to rethink, she poured a generous amount into the second glass. Holding the glasses up to the light, they looked identical. Shepard quickened her steps to the balcony before she could process it.  _

_ Kaidan raised his eyebrows in surprise when she held out the glass. It was in her left hand. She double checked herself to make sure it was correct. Kaidan smiled and lifted it out of her fingertips. She almost lunged for it but cemented her muscles against the urge. They stood in the dark, railing pressed to their stomachs, and looked out over the glow of city lights. Two moons lit the sky overhead, neither full. _

_ “Why didn’t you take the promotion?” Kaidan asked. _

_ Shepard strained to orient herself, heart thumping, and a heat growing in her face. She watched the glass hanging in his fingertips. _

_ “What? The rear admiral spot?” Shepard’s voice came out rough. _

_ “Is it true? You turned it down?” _

_ “Uh, a little.”  _

_ Her blood rushed as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. He didn’t say anything about it. She took a healthy drink from her own glass, her breath forcibly loosening, and trying to slow her heart with calm thoughts. They were just friends. Even if he did get drunk, it didn’t mean anything was wrong. Plenty of friends got wasted together or -- she glanced down at her weak mini-fridge wine -- or one of them got wasted. She should have put the hard wine in her own glass too. She glanced back through the glass slider at the bottles on the counter. If she gave herself the same wine, it wasn’t being deceptive. _

_ Kaidan hunched over the railing. His elbow grazed her arm sending a spark through her nerves all the way to her heart. His skin was so warm. She pulled her eyes away from the bottles on the counter and focused back on the city lights.  _

_ He’d been a bit uptight all night, friendly and warm but more distant and guarded than before. He was holding back. He needed help loosening up. That’s all. For once, he should do what he wanted to do instead of what everyone else expected of him. No settling. He had to be a moral paragon every other hour of the day. Tonight was about relaxing. Relaxing and seizing what he wanted.  _

_ Shepard leaned forward on the railing and pressed herself tighter against his arm. The simple, velvet warmth of his skin gave her chills under her ribcage. He took another drink from his glass. The wine . . .  _

_ “You all right?” he asked. _

_ He hadn’t had much yet. She could still stop it. She reached for his glass. She would say it didn’t look clean, or she remembered drinking from that glass earlier in the day. She’d get him a new one. Then their eyes met. Warmth pooled in her chest from the gentle way he looked at her. She drew her hand back and gripped the railing instead. _

_ “I’m good,” she said quickly. _

_ “It’s like you’re not hearing me.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “I keep asking what ‘a little’ means.” _

_ A little? Oh. The promotion. _

_ “Admiral Wilson discussed it with me. I’m not sure. I don’t want chained to a desk. Beyond rear admiral, I’d have to say goodbye to the Normandy.” _

_ Normal. She could do that. Just two friends drinking. What happened or didn’t happen was up to fate. _

_ “Take the promotion to rear admiral then and stop.” He sipped the wine. _

_ “Considering it.” She flashed him a smile. “What about you? Admiral name plate going to paper weight you to a desk on Orian.” _

_ “Don’t plan on it. That’s the thing about settling the wild west. Even the sheriff gets in on the gunfights. I’m fine being on the station with excursions. I don’t have the helm of a ship to lose.” _

_ “True.”  _

_ They stood in silence for a time. The rare skycar made a soft hum below them. She breathed in the mixed scent of blossoms and stale city air. _

_ “Kaidan.” Shepard paused then looked over at him. “Are you really going to marry Liara?” _

_ The wine glass dropped from his lips. “You know?” _

_ “I saw Liara last month. She told me.” _

_ He nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I am. If she’ll talk to me again.” _

_ “You don’t think it’s a little fast? Orian’s mass relay has only been functional for six months.” _

_ He moved his arm, leaving her skin cold, and leaned sideways on the railing to face her. “The comm buoys went up almost a year before that. Liara wanted to come to Orian then, but it wasn’t practical. All that dead space, months between functional relays, and her work here . . . So she waited until the relay was restored, but we talked almost every day all that time. I’ve known her for years. You know that.” _

_ Shepard gripped her wine glass tight and took a rushed sip. “Of course. I just didn’t realize you needed that.” _

_ “Needed that?” He frowned. _

_ “That sort of validation, security, or whatever.” _

_ Kaidan laughed, but it had a grim, rough quality. He turned back to the stars and city lights. “Funny way of looking at it.” _

_ “How do you look at it then?” _

_ Kaidan held the rim of his glass in both hands and studied the dark sky. “I love Liara. I want her to be happy, whatever that means for her. She’s asari. I realize that. I don’t expect anything from her. I asked her, because she wanted me to ask her.” _

_ “She wanted you to ask her?” _

_ “After Vega’s wedding,” Kaidan swirled the wine around his glass, “ we had a good time. She met my family, saw where I grew up. Afterward, she asked me if I’d expected to get married.” Light reflected back at her in his eyes. His eyes lingered on her, then he looked away and cleared his voice. “I guess, I had. Once I was with Liara, though, I put that away. Bondmates are a state of being. Marriage is ceremonial, legal, a lifetime commitment. It’s a human tradition. I told her I didn’t expect that anymore. You assume a lot of things about your future. It doesn’t mean there isn’t another way. She said, if I asked her, she'd say ‘yes.’ Left it at that.” _

_ Shepard gulped her wine and gave him a brittle smile. “She’s young for an asari taking a serious bondmate, isn’t she?” _

_ “Yes.” Kaidan laughed brightly. The laugh had an unrestrained booming quality to it, like he never had when sober. “Funny really. She’s three times my age, but I’m the cradle robber. Her aunt told me as much in no uncertain terms. Acted like I was taking a child bride or something atrocious. Made me reconsider. In the customs of the asari, Liara should be discovering herself and experiencing the galaxy. Bring me along as an amorous playmate to share the experience, sure, but nothing constraining or committed. But, I realized, married or not, I don’t want to be a tag along. Ring, no ring, I want something real. Liara does too. I’m not forcing that on her. In that case, why not call a spade a spade?” _

_ “A hundred year commitment from an asari? Can’t be that constricting,” she said casually and watched him from the corner of her eye. _

_ “True. She’d still have years left to explore. She’d still be a maiden.” _

_ “That doesn’t bother you?” _

_ “What?” _

_ Shepard twisted to face him. “It doesn’t bother you, you’re committing your life to her, but you’ll be just the first of what could be a dozen bondmates.” _

_ “Dozen seems a little exaggerated, don’t you think?” _

_ Shepard shrugged. “Salarians live forty years.” _

_ “Not a lot of salarians want a bondmate.” Kaidan smirked. “But, yes, sure. A dozen salarian bondmates.” _

_ “You can joke about it? It really doesn’t bother you that you’re giving so much more?” _

_ “Like I’m getting the bad end in a deal?” Kaidan studied the wine in his glass. “I don’t really see it that way.” _

_ “How couldn’t you?” _

_ “On my end? I don’t have to spend my life knowing there will be a day. A day she’s gone, or I am and I’ve left her old and alone. Am I getting the bad end of the deal? The one I love will always be with me. It feels like a lifetime I’ve spent on the other side. All the loss. Coming up for air, only to be dragged down again. The fear, the loss, the agony of it. I can put it down. And, even when I’m gone, I can know she’ll be all right. Others will care for her. She’ll be happy again, explore, find love. Her life doesn’t end with me. And she won’t be alone. If it’s a dozen salarians bondmates, then I’m happy, because she’ll have love and companionship. Happiness. I can rest my worry even on that. I’m the one getting the better deal.” _

_ Shepard buried her face in the wine. This line of questions wasn’t going the right direction at all. She needed to turn the conversation around. She set her glass on the floor of the balcony and slid closer to him. He slumped forward over the railing, wine glass hanging limply over the railing in his fingertips, and eyes distant on the city in front of them.  _

_ She touched his hands and slipped the glass out of his fingers. His brows furrowed. She set the glass on the floor by her feet but kept her other hand on his wrist. Blood pulsed in her ears. She touched his hands. She traced his long fingers and caressed his palm with her thumb. He had the same callouses. The same smooth, warm skin in the hollow of his palm. He pulled back from the railing. _

_ “What time is it?” he said. _

_ “I’m not sure.” _

_ He blinked at the light coming through the glass slider. He checked his Omni-Tool. _

_ “You’re squinting,” she realized. “Does your head hurt?” _

_ “A bit.” He rubbed his temple. “Sometimes when I drink . . .” _

_ “You should take something.” _

_ “It’s late.” _

_ “Just take something. Wait for a bit and let it kick in. After you feel better, you’ll make it to your hotel without getting lost or walking off a landing pad.” _

_ Kaidan laughed, though Shepard wasn’t sure why. _

_ “I don’t feel very good. Drank too much.”  _

_ He stumbled over the deck furniture and collapsed on the love seat in the corner of the balcony. He stuffed two green pills from his pocket into his mouth. He melted back on the seat and covered his face with both hands. _

_ This wasn’t going how she imagined at all. After he left tonight, he’d wear Liara down into speaking with him. They’d reconcile, marry, and that would be it. Shepard would never have time alone with him like this again.  _

_ Minutes passed on the dark balcony. Taking a deep breath, Kaidan slowly lowered his hands. He looked wilted and dull-eyed. The alcohol was catching up with him. If anything happened now, she’d remember it, but it was becoming less and less likely he would. Less and less likely he’d take responsibility for it even if he did remember. She needed it to matter, not just for one night, but from this point on. Liara was his second choice. He was settling. If he realized he could have Shepard back . . .  _

_ She wasn’t uncertain how she felt about him. Not anymore. Fraternization rules weren’t hanging over them like a headsman's axe anymore. Their individual value to the Alliance was recognized and solid. Kaidan was a favorite of Parliament. She was still signing Alliance posters at every port. No one had her and Kaidan in their sights. The Alliance brass were more likely to cover up their fraternization infraction, if they found out, than risk losing them or creating a media storm of bad press.  _

_ She and Kaidan could meet frequently enough. She could find reasons to stop by Orian, or he could meet her at a mutually convenient location off station. She had the Normandy. She was mobile. No one was monitoring their communication. They could comm each other whenever they wanted while apart. When not apart, they’d spend long nights tangled up together, whispering and laughing, making love. It would work. She just needed to get his mind off Liara’s virtues and refocus him on what he truly wanted. Above all, anything that happened between them tonight had to count. _

_ A skycar lifted off the platform by the Thessian bank. Apparently, banker hours didn’t apply in asari culture. The blinking light pointed at the skycar platform caught her eye. Shepard’s posture straightened. She drew her eyes in a straight line from the camera lens to the far corner of the balcony. Kaidan was in the other corner, collapsed on the loveseat, sheltered from view by the building’s angle. _

_ “Kaidan.” She came over to him. _

_ “I feel dizzy.” He looked up at her. _

_ “Let’s move the couch over there.” Shepard nodded to the other side of the balcony. “Fresh air. It’s stuffy in this corner.” _

_ “I don’t want to move.” He rested his head back against the cushion. _

_ “You’ll feel like Cleopatra if you make me move the couch with you on it.” _

_ “The pharaoh?” He grinned at her with hooded eyes. _

_ Shepard fluorescenced blue and reached out a hand. Kaidan’s eyes widened. He stumbled to his feet, grabbed his end of the couch, and waited for her. Shepard dropped her biotics and got a hand hold on the couch. _

_ “Didn’t trust me not to dump you?” _

_ “Didn’t want to spill off.” _

_ Kaidan tripped around the low glass table in the balcony’s center and helped scoot the crouch into the other corner. He dropped like a block of cement and melted into the cushions again. _

_ “Do you want to sleep here?” she asked. _

_ “Give me twenty-minutes. Head’s pounding.” _

_ It was dark out here. Shepard squinted at the bank’s blinking camera. This far away, the camera would need light to not lose everything in shadow. Shepard reached over and flipped on the outdoor light. Kaidan hissed and held a hand up to shade his face. He cursed, but it wasn’t as slurred as she was expecting. A good sign. _

_ “Here.” Shepard pushed the corner of the couch to the side and angled it toward the city, putting the light at his back. _

_ “Do we need that?” His voice was probably louder than he meant. _

_ Shepard came over the back of the couch and sat next to him. She needed to turn the tides of their earlier conversation. _

_ “So, Kaidan.” She reclined against the couch cushion by his shoulder. If he noticed all the room left on her other side, he didn’t say anything. Then again, his eyes looked misty and tired. “What did Liara do? What made you say something you regret?” _

_ He frowned. “I . . . Probably better to not spread it around.” _

_ “It’s just me.” Shepard rested the side of her face against the cushion. “It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” _

_ “No, I . . .” He frowned and rubbed his hands roughly over his face as if trying to make himself more alert. “It’s the Alliance.” _

_ “Yes?” Shepard prompted. _

_ “Liara’s taking money. Extortion, Shepard.” _

_ “Liara’s extorting the Alliance?” Shepard kept her tone even and neutral. _

_ “Being paid to not sell their secrets.” _

_ “The Alliance’s secrets?” _

_ Kaidan nodded. _

_ “Ah. Probably wouldn’t look good for an Alliance admiral to literally be in bed with someone squeezing the Alliance for credits,” Shepard mused as if it was the first time the thought occurred to her. “It could be seen as filling your own pockets, especially once you’re married. You, the Alliance admiral who has access to confidential intel, who knows Alliance secrets, having a lover who uses Alliance secrets to blackmail the Alliance for money. You may as well be committing extortion yourself for how it will look. You’ll be dishonorably discharged or worse if they have any proof you mishandled information.” _

_ Kaidan drew in a sharp breath, eyes sharper and clearer than before. “I know. I haven’t though. She hasn’t.” _

_ “Still looks bad. If someone connects the dots. If they knew your fiancé was the Shadow Broker’s most influential broker in Illium . . . Obviously, members of Parliament are already aware of this secret deal with the Shadow Broker about suppressing intel with credits.” _

_ “She’s just an information broker to them.” _

_ “The top broker. She could still be a direct source of information to the Shadow Broker. Probably getting a commission. Does Parliament know you’re with her? If you marry, it will all connect.” _

_ Kaidan’s face scrunched. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips against his eyelids. _

_ “I don’t know what to do. I was furious,” he whispered. “There’s an email. Someone knows. Either telling me or blackmail, I don’t know.” _

_ That had been her email. Shepard put a hand on his arm. “It’s going to look bad. And Liara? She knows you’re Alliance, knows how it would look, and she still did it?” _

_ Breath escaped Kaidan’s lips with a hitch. He dropped his hands, eyes pinched, and focused on the far wall. “What should I do? Liara’s not a bad person. She gets lost sometimes. I want to help her.” _

_ “Help her, sure, but you need to protect yourself, too, Kaidan. They’re considering you for Parliament. All the progress you’ve made in the Terminus System. Everything you’ve worked for your entire life.” _

_ A tear slipped down Kaidan’s cheek. “I don’t know what to do, Shepard. I love her.” _

_ Shepard’s chest twisted watching the tear’s trail. They were only discussing what was true. She hadn’t created the situation. She pushed forward.  _

_ “Does she love you when she’s risking everything you’ve worked for? Everything you are? Lying and hiding it from you? And for what? She’s that greedy for credits. For power and influence.” _

_ “No.” Kaidan’s words were wet. “She’s trying to rebuild the web, support brokers and expand. She’s had difficulty.” _

_ “That justified extortion? Justifies ruining you? Something like this reveals what’s really in someone’s heart. She loves being the Shadow Broker, control, power, credits. She loves it more than she loves . . .” _

_ Kaidan squeezed his eyes shut. Tears slid down his cheek in wet trails. The ragged, moist gasp on his lips hit her in the chest like a sledgehammer. She regretted the words. All of them. But not enough to take them back. Liara was the one hurting him, not Shepard. Shepard was here to pick him up from what Liara had knowingly done. _

_ “Kaidan.” Her voice choked. _

_ She faced him on the couch, sitting on her knees, and reached out to him. Her hands shook, but she pushed herself on. His jaw was stubbly with grainy angles, like she remembered from so many late evenings and early mornings. It felt so familiar, except for the flushed skin beneath. He felt almost feverish. His eyes were still scrunched close, his breathing hot and rough. Shepard wiped his tears with her fingertips and lowered her face. Her heart spun like a pinwheel. She brushed his lips, soft and salty. His eyes sprang open, and he pushed himself up straighter on the couch, his muscles tensing. _

_ “I’m okay,” he murmured and pulled her hands from his face. _

_ She curled her fingers into his hands and held them. He didn’t resist it. She leaned forward again. His breathing shallowed, eyes crisp and glistening, hands tightening on fingers. Whether it was encouragement or just a tensing grip, she wasn’t sure. _

_ She kissed his upper lip, slippery and tasting of tears. She lingered, brushing their lips against each other, and sucking on his top lip again. The flick of her tongue against the seal of his lips did nothing. His breath pounded against her cheek, but he wasn’t moving. _

_ She lifted her hands from his fingers. He snared the tips of her fingers, but she pulled free. Perhaps he wanted to hold her hands longer, or perhaps he wanted to stop where they might go. She clutched him under the jaw with her fingertips and caressed her thumbs across his cheekbones to the corner of his lips.  _

_ Turning her face to the side, she applied more pressure and heat. Her body rested against him bit by bit, but he was a statue. Lips unresponsive, the only sign it was affecting him was the rising pace of his breathing, chest expanding and falling against her weight. She trailed fingertips down his throat. He shuddered. _

_ He turned his face from her lips. “Shepard.” _

_ “Kaidan,” she mumbled like she thought it was a lusty name exchange. _

_ Slowly, she dragged her lips down his jaw. She kissed deep into the hollow under his jaw, and his mouth opened against her cheek in a rush of ragged air. _

_ “Shepard, no.” He writhed away from her and pushed higher in his seat. He caught her fingers clawing down his side and pushed her back gently. His eyes looked sadder than they had with fresh tears.  _

_ He started to get up. Shepard needed to bring out the big gun. She’d been afraid to use it, but he was starting to stand. _

_ “I love you,” she said. _

_ Kaidan paused on the edge of the couch. “What?” _

_ She kept her gaze steady, her heart hammering, and repeated it. “I love you, Kaidan.” She framed his face in her hands. “All this time. I still love you.” _

_ The crease deepened between his eyes. “I didn’t know you loved me then.” _

_ Her fingers tightened into his skin. It was her turn to be surprised. _

_ “I told you I loved you.” She frowned. _

_ “Hours before we were going to die. Never before or after. I didn’t think it counted.” _

_ She swallowed a lump growing in her throat. “I did love you. I still do.” _

_ He melted under her fingertips and rested back against the couch. His brow was still pinched and troubled, but his eyes were bright and clear. Carefully, Shepard lowered her face to his lips. His chest ballooned in a deep breath. When she sucked onto his upper lip, he kissed her back. He caught her lower lips.  _

_ Her nerves tingled to life in an explosion of fire and need. She turned her head, and his lips parted. It had been years since she tasted his mouth. She felt the gentle tip of his tongue and pulled in a heavy gulp of air, latching tighter to his face with both hands. _

_ She crawled over him, straddling his waist, and pressed him into the cushions. He tasted like red wine and smelled like she remembered. She dragged in the smell of his skin with each breath coming harder and fuller into her chest. It was a clean soapy scent mixed with the woody freshness of outdoor air. Even the light smell of his sweat made her blood pool hot and throb. She wanted to remember everything: taste, smell, touch. Touch . . . _

_ His hands weren’t on her. She followed the corded tension down his arms to his hands. His fingers dug into the cushion on either side of his knees. His kiss was as hungry and desperate as her own, matching her with force and panting breath, but his arms were like stone and hands gripping the couch like a vice. _

_ Shepard drew back and unbuttoned her uniform shirt. She tore it over her head. She followed it with the white undershirt leaving only her bra. Kaidan’s eyes rounded, drawing in a hitched breath. She pushed his shirt up his chest. She dragged her fingers over the smooth muscle. He shivered, chest heaving under her touch, his eyes dark and unfocused. She lowered herself slowly against him. Their skin stuck together bit by bit until she was unfolded against him. Only the thin fabric of her bra separated where everything else was hot and sticking together. _

_ “Shepard . . .” His throat bobbed in a tight swallow, breathing fast through his mouth. His eyes searched for her to look at him. When she met his eyes there was something deep, almost panicked. “Let’s slow--” _

_ She covered his mouth, her tongue slipping between his teeth, and she pressed the curves of her body against him. She followed the crease where their skin melded all the way to his waist and then down to where his hands were still latched onto the cushions by his knees. She worked at his fingers, but he only held tighter. _

_ “I love you, Kaidan,” she murmured against his lips. _

_ He kissed her harder, tongue meeting her stronger, breath burning between them. His fingers loosened. She unlatched his hands. She pressed them into the flesh of her lower back. His fingers trembled.  _

_ This was everything she had wanted since the war. All the feelings she’d chased and had been trying to find was right here. Even her imagination hadn’t remembered it right: the intensity, vibrancy, headiness, euphoria, the sting of hot rushing blood. It was indescribable having it truly, truly be him against her mouth and under her hands, to know it was his breath she was breathing, to have it be his skin burning against her touch. _

_ She raked her hands into his hair and turned his face. She trailed kisses down his neck. The tip of her tongue like this always made him writhe. This was no different. His chest arching up against her and his throat making strangling noises while she lingered in the hollow of his throat. _

_ His hands hadn’t moved from her waist. His biceps were hard with a coiling tension, and she followed his arms back to his hands on her waist. When she found his fingers, they were dimpled into her skin, still trembling. She pulled one of his hands to her mouth. She held his dark eyes, sucking the thumb and then the fingertips, sliding it deep into her mouth and drawing it out slowly between her lips.  _

_ She pulled back from his chest. Their skin smacked as she unstuck herself from him, pulling back just enough. She pressed his wet fingers into the swell of her chest. Her skin prickled and tingled, straining to feel his touch, aching for his fingertips to come further. His touch was trembling and paralyzed. She guided his fingers deeper. Under the fabric. Closer. Almost there. _

_ Kaidan tore his hand away. He pushed her back, breath sharpening, and struggled to sit up. She bent to kiss him again, but he caught her face. He kissed her forehead but rolled her off his lap onto the cushions. _

_ “Kaidan, stop. Where are you going?” _

_ “This is too much.” He started to stand but wobbled and sat down hard. He frowned in concentration and pushed himself up, gripping the arm of the couch for leverage. _

_ Shepard stood, unsteady and flushed. “Kaidan, don’t go. We can stop wherever you want. Just don’t go.” She wasn’t herself with this small pleading voice. Her ribs were too tight to fill her lungs for a full voice. “Please.” _

_ “I might throw up. I really don’t feel good.” _

_ Shepard put a hand on his arm, but he jiggled it off. Her mind raced, blood acidifying with panic. Kaidan covered his face with his hands and turned hesitantly to the porch light. He took a deep breath and lowered his fingers a fraction at a time while still squinting.  _

_ “I need to find my room.” _

_ She grabbed his arm again. One last chance. _

_ “Kaidan, stay with me. We can work something out. It’s not like years ago when the brass was looking for an excuse to hurt us. Fraternization now, if we’re smart, discrete, it can work. I love you.” _

_ “You keep saying that,” he said roughly. “If you love me, you’ll give me a moment to think.” _

_ “You’re going back to Liara?” _

_ “I don’t know what to do now. I asked her to marry me.” _

_ “She only cares about herself. She doesn’t love you, Kaidan.” _

_ “But I love her!” Kaidan’s voice made her flinch. She narrowed her eyes at it, but he didn’t look apologetic. “I don’t love you. Not anymore. Not like I love her. I’m sorry.” _

_ It struck her like a javelin through the ribs. _

_ “You kissed me back,” she whispered. _

_ “I’m sorry, Shepard.” He pressed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. The rims of his eyes shined over the fingertips. “I’m so sorry.”  _

_ He reached out a hand to her, but she pulled away. _

_ “Please.” His voice broke. “Everything’s mixed up for me.” _

_ “So mixed up, you thought for a moment that you did care about me?” She dropped onto the edge of the loveseat. _

_ “I do care about you.” His face contorted. _

_ “Funny way of showing it,” she snapped. She didn’t blunt the edge in her voice. “Go ahead and go. You had fun. Must make you feel better punishing Liara by messing around with me.”  _

_ The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on her, but turning herself into the victim to see him struggle as the abuser was her only consolation. The hurt in his eyes couldn’t be a fraction of how she felt. Since Mindoir, she hadn’t told anyone she loved them. Not seriously at least. It had only been him during their last night on the Normandy and in the Battle of London. Now she’d just said it more times than she had since childhood. He’d thrown it back in her face. _

_ Kaidan wandered back to her, his shoulders sagging, lines glistening on his cheeks. “Shepard . . .” _

_ “Just go. Now.” _

_ The bank’s skyport camera was still blinking in the distance. It eased the pain in her chest. At least, there was that. It couldn’t be taken back.  _

_ When she looked back to Kaidan, he’d followed her eyes to the bank. He stumbled to the balcony railing and looked out at it. Shepard’s pulse quickened. As if following a laser line, he turned back. His eyes fell on the loveseat, on Shepard. His jaw clenched. His eyes darted up to the bright outdoor light. _

_ “Did you . . .” He stopped himself. He looked over at the balcony’s other corner where the couch had originally been positioned. His eyes shot between the bank, the empty corner, and where Shepard sat on the couch. “You moved it. You did know.” _

_ “Know what?” _

_ “Did you think I wouldn’t tell her?” Kaidan’s voice came out strained and weak, almost a whisper. “You thought I’d lie about it? Or did you just want to hurt her by seeing it for herself. Is that why you brought me up here?” _

_ “What are you talking about?” She squirmed. The rising heat in his eyes dried her mouth. _

_ “The camera, Shepard.” Kaidan pointed behind him. “You know as the Shadow Broker, she’d see it. She’d come across it. Or there’s a good chance. But why? And you had me drink. I drank so much . . .” _

_ He rubbed his temple, but his eyes fixed on something through the glass slider. He frowned and stumbled into the lamp-lit room. Shepard shuffled in behind him. Her heart sank as he lifted the small empty mini-bar wine bottle. He picked up the larger wine bottle, smelled it, and turned it over to read the label. _

_ “Did we drink something different?” He turned slowly to her. _

_ “We both drank that.” It wasn’t a lie. She had just had her drink from it the night before.  _

_ Kaidan tapped the bottle down on the counter and pushed past her. His walk had a slight stagger, but he guided himself using the wall and then railing. He picked up the two glasses of wine, sipped from each, and turned cold, hard eyes on her. He slammed the glasses on the balcony’s table. One shattered in a spray of red liquid and glass shards, but Kaidan didn’t seem concerned. _

_ “You lied to me,” he said between his teeth. _

_ “We just didn’t have the same drink at the same time.” _

_ “I thought you cared about me. I’d kill anyone who did something like this to you. Maybe I don’t love you like I did, but I love you a hell of a lot more than you love me to do this. That was the biggest lie.” _

_ “You seem sober enough now. You just want to deflect your own part in it.” _

_ “I know my part. I know what I did. I know it can’t be taken back. But I know your part too.” He shuffled around her, tripping on the rug, and catching himself against the wall before reaching the door.  _

_ He paused in the open doorway and looked back at her. Shepard waited. Silence stretched between them, but he didn’t say anything more. He turned away and left. The door slid shut behind him. _

_ He’d be even more angry with her after he talked to Liara and discovered Shepard was the one who sent him the email with information off the datachip. The information on that chip could expose Liara and made Kaidan look guilty. He’d be ruined if it became public.  _

_ The Alliance datachip was in her suitcase. She pulled it out of a zipper pocket on the top flap and twisted it around in her fingertips. This was the true datachip, the one had taken from Liara’s office. She curled her fingers around it and moved to the balcony. She’d already thrown the decoy into oblivion below. She held her fist over the railing but paused. Kaidan’s words repeated in her head. He didn’t love her. Not like he used to. Not anymore. Her ribs ached. She drew her hand back and shoved the datachip into her pocket instead.  _

_ In the distance, the bank’s camera light blipped in the darkness. He was gone, but it had happened. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his skin hot and sticking against her chest. She could feel his lips and smell his sweat. She dropped onto the balcony’s couch and watched the half moons in the night sky.  _

_ She wished he was still there with her. Maybe if she’d done it differently, not kissed him, he would have stayed. She could have rested her temple against his shoulder and breathed in the smell of laundry soap from his shirt. She could have settled against his chest and put an arm around his ribs. He would have stayed and held her. Talked. But that wouldn’t have changed the fact he didn’t love her. Not anymore. _

_ ***  _

Shepard woke in a cold sweat. She threw off the covers and tumbled out of bed. She was in the mess hall before she’d fully buttoned her shirt. It was close to lunch and crew members were starting to appear from the elevator. She stood outside Kaidan’s door. She was about to push the door’s call button, and the light buzzed on her Omni-Tool. A intra-ship message.

“Ma’am?” It was the CIC’s comm specialist.

“Yes?” Shepard spoke into her wrist.

“Sorry. I tried calling you in your cabin. Admiral Alenko needs to see you in the QEC.”

Shepard glanced at the XO’s door. Of course, he was on duty.

“Be right there.” Shepard turned off her mic.

Shepard met Joker coming off the elevator. 

“Uh, hey, Admiral.” He grimaced stepping onto the crew deck.

“What’s the matter?” Shepard caught the elevator door.

Joker glanced around them and lowered his voice. “Alenko’s super pissed. Like, at you.”

Shepard’s stomach dropped. “Why? I haven’t done anything. Well, anything new.”

“He’s all worked up over something. Some message on his datapad from Command maybe? Then he got a QEC call. They’ve been hollar around, trying to find you for him.”

“He could be mad at anything. Might not be me.”

“He just told Specialist Guyer, ‘Grab that damn comm, and tell Shepard to haul her ass to the QEC.’ But you’re right. It might just be the bad call from the sorcerer’s game last night.”

“Oh.” Shepard stepped into the elevator and pushed the elevator button. “Better go find out.”

***

Kaidan was the only one in the QEC. She could see him talking on the holopad as she crossed the empty former war room. When she came through the doorway, she saw the hologram waiting for her. Her hands curled into fists.

Cicero stared back at Kaidan coolly. “She’s confined to two decks on the Normandy. How can you not find her? This isn’t--”

“I was in the mess hall.” Shepard climbed up the stairs and stopped on the holopad beside Kaidan.

Cicero regarded her neutrally for a moment then gave a dismissive wave. “You may go, Alenko.”

Kaidan knotted his arms tightly across his chest. “I think I’ll stay.”

“I am ordering you to leave.”

“I don’t take orders from you. Get a directive from Parliament, then I’ll listen.”

Cicero gave him a tired look. “I am Parliament’s spokesman.”

Kaidan shrugged. “Shepard’s not Alliance. This is my ship. I’m a fleet admiral and part of Parliament. You can explain to the Admiralty Board how I disobeyed you by standing in while you spoke to a non-Alliance crew member aboard my ship.”

“Admiral Alenko’s fine.” Shepard put her hands on her hips. “Go ahead. You wanted me. Here I am.”

“Perhaps, Shepard, it’s for your sake I request privacy.”

“There’s nothing private between you and me.” Shepard drummed her fingers on her hip. “Really. Go ahead. This was apparently important enough for use of the QEC.”

“I wanted to check on mission status.” Cicero’s eyes shifted to Kaidan. “You’re off schedule. Why haven’t you already hit the relay into the Serpent Nebula?”

“Delays,” Kaidan said.

“Hmm. There are rumors about your type of delays. Be prepared to address it with Parliament on your return.”

“Already got my summons.”

Shepard stepped between them. “You called for me, didn’t you? What do you want, Cicero?”

“Commander Tautum’s been arrested.”

Kaidan’s arms loosened in their knot. It was the first time Kaidan looked directly at her since she entered the room.

“Why?” Shepard asked.

“Falsified reports, unsanctioned entry, theft, misappropriation of Alliance resources, manslaughter. Perhaps more. There are a lot of documents to shift through.”

Kaidan bowed his head and studied the floor.

Cicero wasn’t finished. “When you lose your Spectre status, you’ll be looking at the same list. Longer. Manslaughter may be too low of a category for some of it.”

“I suppose the press knows?” Her stomach sickened. Most of the acidity was from Kaidan’s grim expression and hearing the fate of the boy. 

“These anonymously-sourced documents did reach the press I’m afraid.”

“Good. Then they’ll also be eager to hear how the Alliance Parliament’s ‘spokesman’ slept with the evildoer of the documents. They’ll probably enjoy the part about him getting foreman status for her trial.”

Kaidan’s eyes widened. He turned his back to them and wandered to the edge of the holopad.

“An outrageous accusation,” Cicero said, voice cool and passive. “I suppose you have proof?”

“Oh, I have proof.” Shepard stared him hard in the eye and smiled. She didn’t have proof.

“I mean real proof, not the kind you fabricate. You do realize that actually exists. It’s preferred.”

Shepard tapped her foot. “Did you just call to aggravate me?”

“You’re being subpoenaed for Admiral Alenko’s hearing with Parliament. His extracurricular escapades during a high priority mission has everyone’s interest piqued. Secret meetings with krogan clan members. Openly and recklessly engaging hostile forces in krogan space, despite directives to be covert.”

“That’s hardly worth a QEC call,” Kaidan said from behind her.

“A hearing over a fleet admiral conspiring with hostile forces? Few actions are taken as seriously.”

.“We can explain it later. There are good reasons. Anything else?” 

“You could have messaged me the subpoena,” Shepard said

“Mission status? Location? Flight plan?”

“Oops. Think we’re losing you.” Shepard pushed the button on the terminal and ended the call. Cicero’s image disappeared.

“Why was he really calling you?” Kaidan said at her back.

“Hell if I know.” Shepard spun around. “Since you wagged your finger in my face last time, I haven’t answered any of his private calls to find out.”

“Commander Tautum?”

“I didn’t want that. I don’t know how to help him. The crimes may be true.”

A datapad was balanced on top of the QEC’s terminal. Kaidan snatched it up and thrust it at her. The screen had Kaidan’s Alliance email open. The message was an Official Human Systems Alliance Parliamentary Bulletin, classified even. It was bullet pointed. Her eyes stopped on the first sentence.

She looked up. “A summary of Cicero’s ‘anonymously submitted’ documents?”

“Do I dare read it?” Kaidan tore the datapad from her hands.

“I’d like to see that.” 

“Petition Parliament for a copy. You can frame it somewhere, since you’re so talented in framing.”

“Tautum made his own decisions.”

“The Normandy’s entire crew will be in these documents. Joker will be in these documents.” Kaidan tapped the datapad in his palm. “I can only hope Cicero kept back anything that could incite bad blood between the galaxy and the Alliance. Your stunt with the turian mercenaries in Tensa, the Freska Fiasco, the Gorgon explosion. It’s sketchy at best.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“He alluded to you being charged with murder. Is that what I’m going to find in these files?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did he find all of this on you? Sixty-seven documents: redacted travel logs, falsified flight plans, mission reports with bold-faced lies. I haven’t even read it yet, but I can imagine based off the incidents I already know about. Sixty-seven pages, Shepard.” Kaidan waited as if Shepard would defend herself, but she didn’t know what to say. He snorted and shook his head. “Strangest thing is there’s evidence these files were stored on your server. Cicero must have stolen it, but why the hell would you keep all of this in one place and so much of it? You wanted to get caught? I hope you did. It’d be the only redeeming thing about you. I almost thought . . .” His jaw flexed.

“What?” Shepard prompted.

“I almost thought I was wrong about you. I hoped you’d changed.”

“You’re not wrong about how I was then. But I have changed. You’re right about that. This information is outdated.”

“But you did this?” Kaidan’s voice cracked.

“You haven’t even read what ‘this’ is yet.”

“I’m afraid to.” Kaidan’s hand tightened on the datapad to the point the muscles bulged in his arm. He pointed it at her. “You’re reckless. You hurt everyone. This is your own crew, Shepard.”

“Tell me what I can do to fix it now? I can’t. I can take responsibility for it, but even as followers, they chose to have a part in it. I hope Parliament considers the circumstances. Recognizes I led them -- misled them. You know what I can do to use people, misdirect and use their trust. You can advocate for them in Parliament, Kaidan. I’ll own my own part, even write it all out. You can help mitigate their punishment.”

Kaidan eyed her warily and took a step back. “You’re manipulating me even now.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Return to your area,” Kaidan said and brushed past her into the war room. “See yourself there. I’ll trust you as far as that.”

“Kaidan.” She followed him. “Listen. About Illium . . .”

Kaidan stopped. When he turned his head, his profile was hardened like stone. “What about it?”

“I remembered what happened.”

“You remembered? What the hell does that mean?” Kaidan snapped around to face her.

“An apology isn’t enough. I know that.” Shepard stepped closer. “Kaidan, an apology is all I have. I’m sorry. Truly sorry. You’re right. It was manipulative. You trusted me. I used it. Kaidan . . .” Her voice faltered under his steely gaze. She put a hand out to touch his arm. “Kaidan, I’m so sorry.”

Kaidan drew back from her touch. The silence stretched between them. She could see him in her memory from Illium: his eyes squeezed shut, wet trail marks on his face, and the bank’s camera light blinking in the distance. She could hear her voice. Her voice telling him Liara didn’t love him and was misusing him, at the same time, she misused him. She’d seeded doubt and fear into his relationship with Liara and set him up to not be taken back. What if it had been her Kaidan, broken and hurting, while his trust was abused? She would have ripped apart anyone who did that to him with her bare hands, and yet it had been her.

“You’re right.” Kaidan’s voice woke her back to the present. “An apology isn’t enough. Not for me, not for your crew, not for Tautum.”

Shepard bit her lip and nodded vigorously accepting his words.

“Go.” Kaidan sighed.

“I can only fix the right now,” Shepard whispered.

“You can’t even fix that. These last few weeks, it’s been the same. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than let any quibble hold you back from what you want in the moment.”

“I’m sorry, Kaidan. Please, I--”

“Stop.” Kaidan slapped the war table. His eyes stayed on the table and spoke low and even. “You’re toxic. Go, or you’ll be made to go.”

Something hot slipped down her cheek. Kaidan looked up from the table and froze. 

“You’re wrong,” she spoke, voice breaking. She didn’t care if her face was burning and wet or her voice was quivering, though Kaidan’s eyes were large and staring. “I’m not toxic or wicked. I don’t know how to show you that any more than I have. I tried to broker peace between the krogan and the Council, because I wanted you to have that if nothing else. When Wrev airlocked us, I saved you. I saved you, because I’d rather lose my life than lose you. I got that damned Shard, because I know what it means to you. It’s in the safe right now, because I helped you. You couldn’t have done it without me. I couldn’t have done it without you. So don’t say I can’t fix anything. That I don’t care about anything. That I don’t care about you. 

“And, you’re wrong, Kaidan. It is hard to ask for forgiveness. I ask for forgiveness for what happened years ago. What I’ve done the last few weeks, I have nothing to ask forgiveness for. I’ve tried to be there for you, even when you spit venom at me and say cruel things. I still came to find you, because I knew you needed someone. I may have been toxic then, but you’re toxic now. I ask forgiveness for the past, but you should ask it for the present.”

Shepard clenched her jaw, holding his wide-eyed gaze, and shoved around him. He seemed about to say something, but she was already out the door. When she got to her cabin, she slammed her fist on the door’s close button. 

For a while, she’d gotten caught up in this miserable place. She’d started to believe it was real. What happened here had started to matter. She sat on her bed and hugged her knees to her chest. She stared at the door. This wasn’t the real timeline. 

What if Sol’s fractured Shard shattered on entry into the system, and she had to make a choice? She had needed a reminder to keep her priorities straight. This backward place and everyone in it were just an illusion. It didn’t matter what happened to an illusion. The only thing that mattered was getting home at all costs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings (italicized section): Dubious Consent (Attempt) involving alcohol and manipulation


	17. Hunted

**CHAPTER 17 Hunted**

Shepard stared at the time on her nightstand. Any time now they’d be nearing the krogan system’s mass relay and jumping into the Serpent Nebula. From there, it would be a quick transfer to the relay that would bring them into Sol. The Sol relay’s fractured Shard would activate. If it survived the activation, it would be a win for everyone. If it shattered on their entry into Sol . . . It would be only one win. She rolled over and faced the dark wall. 

She hadn’t bothered changing her clothes. After her confrontation with Kaidan, she’d fallen straight into bed. He’d been venomous. Anything she’d built between them had only made the poison hit her system that much harder. Tears had long since dried on her cheeks. Kaidan had looked at her in shock when he saw the tears, his cobra hood drooping, fangs retracting. It was years into their marriage before she let him see her cry. This Kaidan had only seen it one time. And that was a long, long time ago.

The door chimed. Shepard sat up. No one came to her room. Joker caught her in the mess hall. Quigley and other members of the crew comm’ed her on the rare occasion they needed anything. There was only one person who came to her door. When the door opened, she wasn’t surprised. Kaidan.

“Hi,” she said simply and crossed her arms.

“We’re a couple of hours out from the relay,” he said.

He looked wrung-out, eyes tired and complexion a little pale. 

“All right,” Shepard said. “What do you need me to do? Get ready somehow?”

“Not necessarily. Not unless you need to.”

“Ah. Okay then.” Shepard leaned against the doorway and waited, but Kaidan studied the floor between them. “That’s all? Just a navigation update?”

“That’s not all.” He smeared a hand across his face, his ring catching the light. “May I come in?’

Shepard’s back straightened in surprise. She stepped back from the doorway and let him pass. His eyes moving around the room with a controlled expression on his face. He stopped short of the stairs. Shepard fell into her desk chair with a thud.

“Now what have I done wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” he said, but then looked at her harder. “Why?  _ Did _ you do something?”

“Not that I know of. Nothing new. Am I in trouble?”

“No, you’re not in trouble. Not with me anyway.”

“You haven’t read all sixty-seven pages of my sins yet?”

“I can’t read it. I know enough already. You’re right about one thing: it is outdated. The last document is from years ago.”

“Judge me off the last few weeks, not that.”

“I want to think you can change, but . . .” He rubbed his face with both hands and gave a long sigh, then he looked her in the eyes. “Look, Shepard. I came up here before and apologized, but I think I need to say something again. Say something different.”

“Your last apology was appreciated, but if you’re guilty about what you’ve said since then, don’t lose any sleep over it. I don’t want another apology over the delivery while reinforcing the message.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.” He sagged back against the empty fish tank. “You’ve done well on this mission. Stayed true to the objectives and delivered as promised. Earned some trust. You deserve better than how I treated you. I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

Shepard grinned. “Now, that’s an apology worth hearing.”

“Rehearsed it on my way up the elevator.” He gave a weak smile.

“A polished delivery.”

“I regret the harsh things I said to you. Regret how I’ve treated you. Recently.”

“You already had my forgiveness with the ‘I am an ass’ apology.” She dismissed it with a wave and slouched back in her chair. “Clean slate.”

“I always appreciated that about you. You do wipe the slate after an apology. That’s not something I can always manage.”

“Oh, I know.” Shepard twisted her chair back and forth in a slow rock.

“I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt. On some level, you’re still the person I knew.”

“On some level, you’re still the person I knew.”

Kaidan looked away. Silence stretched between them.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispered.

Shepard sat forward in her chair. “I won’t pretend to understand it all -- the media backlash, Cicero -- but I can see a lot’s happening. Kaidan, you lost your wife. It’s only been a few months.”

“It’s not just that.” He met her eyes. “Or it is, but it isn’t.”

Shepard waited. Kaidan’s eyes slid sideways to the cabin door. He gazed at it with an unreadable expression. 

“Kaidan,” she said finally and stood. “I think however you’re feeling is probably very normal. When I lost my family, I felt angry and cynical. I was emotionally all over the place. It’s to be expected.”

“If it wasn’t for me, Liara wouldn't have died, Shepard.” 

Shepard stopped in front of him. “Whoever was behind the riot and attacked her is to blame, not you.”

“They wouldn’t have attacked her if not for me.” The gleam of the fishtank grew brighter in his eyes. “She gave me information. It made her a target, because I used that information to stop them -- the slavers, the organized crime rings, the sand dealers, smugglers, pirates. The filth of the Terminus System. Worse than using her information, I persuaded her not to sell information to them. 

“She knew where Nightshade’s leader was hiding in the system. The other crime bosses were pressuring and threatening her, but I encouraged her to refuse them the information at any cost, reject credits or exchange of intel. Not to deal with them. I took the Nightshade leader’s whereabouts myself, and I left her. We were being threatened and someone had given her away -- her identity as the Shadow Broker -- I knew all that, but I left her. They broke into our apartment, our home on the station, where we lived. The station security was entangled in the riot. By the time they arrived . . . I was light years away. I rushed back, but I only had minutes with her, and she died.”

“Kaidan . . .” Shepard’s heart pulsed in her throat. She didn’t dare touch him, but she stepped closer. “That’s still not your fault.”

“How can you say that? Of course, it is. I’m not to blame, but I caused it. If not for me, the decisions I made, she’d still be here. How could I have left them?”

“Liara was a strong fighter. If you had been there, you may have died too. Your daughter would be without both parents.

“Liara and I could have held them off. Security would have responded faster if I’d been there. I would have died before I let them touch her. I wish it had been me, not her.”

“I’m sure she’d have wanted the same thing but opposite. Wanted you to live, if there really could be a choice.”

“Leida needs Liara, not me. Even if Liara wanted me to live for her own sake, she’d need to choose herself for Leida’s sake.”

“What?” Shepard’s brow bunched. “Kaidan, you’re a good father.”

“No, I’m not,” he said firmly. He had an edge in his voice. “Maybe you suppose that about me based on other things, but I’m not, Shepard. I . . .” He swallowed and looked down briefly. When he looked back up, his gaze was shaky. “Shepard, I left her when she needed me. Left her with strangers after she’d just seen her mother, her nanny, everyone she knew but me, killed in front of her. Violently. And I left her alone, because I wanted to find the people who broke into our home. I couldn’t let the trail cool. I thought if I got vengeance on them, I could live with myself and the part I played. 

“But, after they were dead, I was only disgusted with myself -- for leaving Leida, for not pursuing any real justice. I didn’t offer to take them into custody. I would have been mortified if they just surrendered. I don’t know what I might have done. In the end, it didn’t lessen my guilt. They were animals, brutal criminals. They knew nothing else, but I knew better. I put Liara in danger and left her, then did the same thing again to our daughter.”

“Maybe you could have known not to leave Leida, but grief makes us do crazy things. If those people were still alive, you’d be obsessed with them. You’d be blaming yourself for not avenging her and letting them get away. You were going to be in turmoil either way.”

“Maybe.” He gave a weak shrug but looked her in the eye. “Maybe I wouldn’t be able to live with myself no matter what I did, but I could have done what was best for Leida, and I didn’t.”

“One bad choice fueled by guilt and vengeance doesn’t make you a bad father.”

“What about now?” He shifted his weight against the wall of the fish tank. “Where’s she now? Where am I? If I’m still grieving, she is even more.”

“The relay stranded you. You couldn’t help that.”

“No,” he agreed. “The call from Thessia, the one that upset me and I snapped at you about, it was Liara’s aunt, Benezia’s sister, Liara’s only family member I know of. I couldn’t leave Leida on Orian, and I couldn’t take her with me when I reported to Arcturus. So she’s on Thessia, where she can be safe. Eithelia called me. She thinks Leida should stay on Thessia with her. Permanently. These are Leida’s formative years, and she’s asari. She should be with her people.”

“And not with her human father?”

“Asari value father traits in genetics. They even value the father’s supplemental influence, but asari are raised by asari. A situation like this is rare: a mother dying with a young child. If it does happen, the alien father is often older, perhaps infirm or otherwise incapable due to advanced age. Or, more likely, the father was never a strong presence at all. 

“Even in cases where the father is able, the asari child is usually raised by asari relatives. There are some things only asari can teach. Mindmelding is like speech, but more important. It needs to be learned early through close familial bonds. Also, it goes without saying, asari biotics are stronger than ours. Generally. It’s intuitive and can be wielded wildly at a young age. It’s shaped, taught and corrected, through melding.”

“You're afraid she can’t learn that any other way?”

“Leida will live a thousand years. Hopefully. If I take her while she’s young, she’ll live the next nine hundred years not fitting in. She wouldn’t have the developmental foundation and social connections of other asari. Some things can only be learned young, or she’ll never become proficient. Even if I tried to teach her, I could never, because I’m not asari. I can’t control a mindmeld. I can’t initiate it. I can’t teach her what she needs to be asari. 

“All the asari tutors I could hire would never be enough, because it’s not society or family. With turnover and only being an employee relationship, there could never be the depth to a melding that Leida would need. As asari learn mindmelding, it takes intimacy to explore and develop conceptually. Melding involved in reproduction. It’s possible, without developing a strong initial foundation or even just being socially clumsy with her melding tactics, she may never be able to reproduce as a mother. If she’s not raised through her early decades under guidance of an intimate asari relationship, it could affect her entire adult life going forward.” 

“This is everything Eithella said?”

“Yes, and that Leida being with me only endangers her. Eithella said I’m an Alliance fleet admiral and Council Spectre. I can’t give Leida much time as a parent. If that’s the case, if Leida will be neglected even on that most basic level, then do I want her really raised by a string of asari nannies who I know can’t give her what she needs? Or, do I want her on Thessia, where she’s with family and can have every advantage she needs for a full time? I’m being selfish and naive to want her back.”

“But you don’t think that: wanting her back is selfish or naive?” Shepard studied him.

Kaidan’s eyes dropped. “Selfish, no. Naive, maybe. I want her for myself, but I worry about giving her up. How it will affect her.”

“Because of Jump Zero?”

He looked up sharply. There was something clear and penetrating as he searched her eyes. 

“Yes. Exactly,” he said.

“I know you wouldn’t want that for your own child.”

“No, not that Eithella is Vyrnnus by any means, but it hurt being sent away, even knowing they thought it was for my good.”

“Don’t give her up, Kaidan.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “I haven’t decided. Eithella’s right. It’s not as though I can’t come to Thessia to see her. I have an apartment in the same city as Eithella’s estate. But . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Before Eithella called you, you must have had plans for Leida?”

“Going back to Orian Station is too dangerous for her. I want to transfer to Earth. I own land on the coast, and my family is there. Admiral Johnson is retiring. It will open a position over one of the mobilized fleets. I’d be based on Earth if I took it, but I’d be deployed on a military vessel for up to six months at a time. I’d never see her. That’s why I want to be sector head of Sol. Let seats be rearranged. It’s not about the prestige.”

“That’s why it’s important you're successful repairing the Sol Relay? You’ll be one step closer to earning the spot.”

“It’s not so self-serving as that. I wasn’t the only one in Sol stranded from loved ones, and the Alliance is going to be destroyed quickly if we can’t unite our fleets. With what’s happened with Wrex, I’ll be lucky to break even in Parliament’s favor by fixing the relay. In truth, maybe none of that even matters anymore, not if Leida is better in Thessia. Even if the relay is fixed, even if I become fleet admiral of Sol, I still can’t give her everything she needs. Eithella will live longer than me, and I . . . I don’t want Leida to be alone.” 

“Kaidan . . .” 

He paused for a moment and touched the ring on his fingers. His expression softened. “It was always meant to be me who died. Liara and Leida would live on. Liara was incredibly young for an asari mother. Leida would have been with her for centuries. If all Leida ever loves or knows is me and other humans, she’ll have nothing when I’m gone.”

“Let her visit Eithella on Thessia then. You can foster her relationship with other asari, not just hired ones. If you found an asari nanny who would dedicate herself to Leida, Leida could learn what she needs.”

“Maidens are notoriously transient and restless. Matron and Matriarchs won’t be hired as nannies. Eithella’s right. It would be a revolving door of mercenary, fabricated asari relationships. A few months in Thessia won’t build the foundation she needs for melding. It’s too integral. The more I think about it . . . I resent Eithella over it, but she’s right.” He put his forehead in his hands.

“Kaidan, listen to me.” Shepard touched his arm, and he focused on her. “Hey. I know you. You’re a good man, and Leida has a lot more to learn than being asari. She needs your integrity and diligence, your honesty and compassion. Those are important qualities for her formative years and have a lot fewer teachers. 

“And that’s not the only thing you can teach her. Leida will learn a lot over her lifetime, but you’re the only one who can tell her about her mother. She’ll want to know about Liara, and about you, everything she came from. She could go a lifetime wondering about things too far past to ever know. 

“And you’re a biotic, Kaidan. Our biotics may be different, but you already know how to teach. You’d find a way to teach Leida too. Liara told me once that when we were on the first Normandy having you there as another biotic made her feel less alien. You may not be able to direct a mindmeld, but you have other lesions to offer. You’re her father, Kaidan. To hell with Eithella. What would Liara want?”

He blinked at Shepard with clearing eyes and stood frozen.

“And as for the rest, Kaidan. You feeling like you caused it. Every choice we make has a million consequences. I left Ash on Virmire. I couldn’t save Thane or Mordin or Legion, but maybe there’s something I could have done differently. Some way they could have lived if I’d made a better choice. You can’t beat yourself up about it. Saren killed Ash. Kai Leng killed Thane. Mordin and Legion sacrificed themselves because of the reapers. Anderson too. It’s the same thing here. Those criminals killed Liara, not your choices.”

He watched her but didn’t move. She was standing close, the air still hot with her words, and she suddenly realized he may feel pinned with her coming so close. She stepped back from him, but he caught her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her in a flush of familiar scents and warm memories. Home. If Home had a smell, touch, or sound, then this was it. 

She pushed past the initial rigidness in her reflexes and put her arms around his chest. She turned her cheek against his chest and melted into him. She longed to hear his heartbeat through the muffling layers of his uniform. Her own heart ached as much as it was pounding. Kaidan pulled back. It was all too quick: Home found inside an embrace and lost again.

“Thanks, Shepard. I needed to hear that.”

She swallowed dryly, unable to find words, cold with the loss of his touch.

“I’d better go,” he said. “We’ll hit the relay soon. I hope it’s easy transit, but . . . I’d be surprised.”

“Right.” Shepard’s voice came out hoarse, and she cleared it. “I’ll see you at the shuttle when we reach Sol.”

He gazed at her with a considering look, then stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was quick and chaste. He held the back of her head only a second longer than his lips touched her skin. Her heart fluttered.

“Thanks for talking to me, Shepard. You’re right. I did need it.” He stopped in the doorway of her cabin. “Maybe you do know me more than I gave you credit for.”

He disappeared behind the shutting doors. Shepard stood in the light of the fishtank with a racing heart and the memory of his soap tinting the air in her lungs. She’d never looked forward to getting home more than she did at that moment.

*** 

Shepard was riding the elevator down to the mess hall when the alarm went off. A siren screamed overhead .Red light blinded her. The inertia changed, and her stomach lifted. She slammed sideways into the elevator’s wall. The ship was making maneuvers. The elevator stopped on the crew deck.

The elevator door opened to a roar of clanking dishware, yelling, and pounding feet. It was like opening a dam to high water. Uniforms spilled through the widening doors. Shepard pressed against the back wall, flattening like a leaf. It was useless to fight the rush of bodies. Some were half-dressed and bleary-eyed, while others were still chewing and sucking sauce off their fingers. The last service woman tried to slip into the sardine elevator, but she was pushed back. The doors slid shut.

“Hello, Admiral.” A private she barely recognized smiled at her, their cheeks centimeters from being stuck together.

The ship bucked beneath them and twisted. The autopilot must be off. The turns were sharp and overwhelming the inertia dampeners. 

The elevator opened to the CIC. Crew members exploded out the metal box, yelling and running at full speed to their stations. Red light strobed over the command center like a bad disco. People’s voices were heated and booming, bodies darting between consoles, and the galaxy map was fluxing with energy interference as systems were rerouted. The private who had greeted her was the last one to tumble out the elevator doors. Shepard was right behind him. If someone wanted to tackle her for trespassing, she wouldn’t stop them. Otherwise, she was going to find out what the hell was happening.

The gangway was clear with officers already filling the rows of seats lining the grate. The ship rocked. Shepard stumbled to the side. 

“Brace!” Kaidan yelled from somewhere up ahead.

It wasn’t much of a warning, but it was enough for her to lock her legs and grip the bulkhead. The ship heaved. When the sick feeling steadied and floor balanced, she shot to the bridge.

Kaidan gripped the back of the pilot’s seat with blanched knuckles. He was hunched over, looking through the front window, and telling the copilot something. He must have caught Shepard’s reflection, because he flicked a look over his shoulder at her. He did a double take and frowned.

“What are you --”

“Two of ‘em on our three,” Joker said focused straight ahead. “Another coming up. Drop?”

“Drop low.” Kaidan spun back to Joker.

White light exploded in Shepard’s vision, but the ship was already dropping under her feet. Her stomach rolled up her throat, and she clutched the wall. The engine sent a groan through the ship’s metal. The thruster systems rattled the whole ship and Shepard’s teeth. The copilot cursed. His dashboard lit up with flashing alarm icons.

“The hell, Joker!” Shepard teetered in beside Kaidan. “You’ll tear the ship apart. The auto-safety’s off?”

Joker’s eyes bulged taking her in. He hadn’t noticed her earlier. He darted a look at Kaidan as if expecting Kaidan to order her shackled and dragged away.

“Three more,” yelled the copilot, ‘Mark,’ if Shepard remembered right. “Where are they coming from, sir?”

“We’re getting through the relay,” Kaidan said. “Joker, do you have the signal?”

“No. Too much -- Dammit! Dammit!” Joker slammed buttons on the dash. The ship turned sharply. An explosion rocked the ship from behind. 

Kaidan stumbled against Shepard, then steadied himself and touched his ear. “Report?” He paused. “Only one. Seal it. Quarantine the FTL cells to either side of it. Get Engineer Compton down there now.”

“Admiral,” Mark’s voice strained. “They’re lining up between us and the relay. Five ships. With the two after us, that’s seven.”

“Stop crapping yourself, Mark. I got that greaser off our ass. That’s what matters.” Joker’s fingers flew across the holoscreen. 

“Krogan ships are attacking us?” Shepard asked.

Kaidan gave her a vague nod, eyes fixed on the dash, and leaned over Joker. “We need the signal for the relay, Joker.”

“Can’t lock onto it, sir.” Mark breathed heavy, moving icons across the screen, perched on the edge of his seat.

“No duh, Mark. Got krogan ships jamming it with their queue.” Joker snorted.

“Spectre code,” Shepard hissed. “We can jump their queue by overriding it with a Spectre code.”

“The Council hasn’t forced this relay to meet regulations,” Kaidan said.

Shepard ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth in thought. A warning flashed on the dash. Joker throttled the ship into a heavy spin. Shepard latched onto the copilot’s seat with both hands. Her feet slipped from under her, but she caught herself from hitting the floor. Based off the commotion in the CIC behind them, some of the crew weren’t all as lucky.

“Little warning, Joker,” Kaidan snapped and looked back at the CIC. He touched his ear. “Medical needed to CIC. Lieutenant!” Kaidan hollered at one of the officers by the navigation map. “You’re a medic. Check them out.”

Crewmen lay moaning against the wall and holding their heads over consoles. A few weren’t getting up, knocked out perhaps. Sparks burst overhead from a loose connector in the ceiling. Any of the staff lining the gangway who weren’t snapped into their seats were now buckling up.

“You need the safety VI on, Joker,” Shepard roared at him. “We’re a carton of eggs, not rocks.”

“You want another SR-1?” Joker shot back at her then settled into his seat. “Just trying to keep her afloat while the Admiral’s forcing us at the relay.”

“There’s too many of them,” Mark said. “Should we pull back, sir?”

Joker sat up taller in his seat. “It’s coming back at us. Dropping again.”

“Brace!” Kaidan called.

Shepard smacked against the back of the copilot’s chair. He bounced forward against his seat restraints. The floor fell under them.

“Joker’s gone rogue with safety protocol.” Shepard tried to catch Kaidan’s eye.

Kaidan was barking orders behind them at the staff in the CIC. He waved the medic at the bleeding navigator slumped against the galaxy map’s railing. Shepard tried to get his attention, but he gave her a sharp sideways look.

“Joker knows what he’s doing. I’m CO. I make the calls.”

Shepard returned his glare but bit down on her tongue. They had switched places in more ways than commander and subordinate. She should be the one pushing aside  _ his _ caution and driving straight into danger. Kaidan had spent years in the Terminus System, living on the fringe of civilization, taking risks and chancing caution. 

She was a mother with a desk job who hadn’t seen combat in eight years. Her fears had changed. Getting hit by a mortar seemed frivolous next to an abnormal brain scan. She’d rather take a bullet than watch Avyn being rolled into another operating room. She had become afraid of risk. Compared to what she’d gone through the last eight years, this was nothing. More than anything, she just needed to get home. Perhaps the risk was worth it, if she could break free of her hesitation.

“Disengage,” Kaidan ordered Joker. “Pull back from the relay.”

“Finally!” Joker said. 

Perhaps Kaidan hadn’t converted into such a risk taker after all. Or he just knew when to walk away.

“Two of them are following us, sir,” Mark said. “We have to break away from them first.”

“Got their teeth sunk in our ass,” Joker said. “They’re not letting go without a good ass wagging.”

“We’re not all strapped down in leather seats,” Shepard said through her teeth.

“Shepard’s right,” Kaidan said grudgingly. “Don’t overdo it. We can’t keep this up, Joker. We’re already out a fuel cell, and the FTL drive is leaking.”

“Could’ve been worse. Coulda actually got fried. We’re still here because of me.”

“The queue?” Kaidan asked.

“Still jammed, sir.” Mark glanced back at Shepard. “Wish this relay had Council code, ma’am, not just the krogan nonsense.”

Shepard’s attention snapped to Mark. This was the krogan system’s single active relay . . . Wrex had told her something when she was on Tuchanka. If she could just remember the krogan nonsense . . .

“We’re falling back.” Kaidan leaned down next to Joker. “What will it take to wag our ass hard enough to lose these guys and not tear the ship apart?” 

Joker adjusted his cap. “I can move the--”

“Wait. I’ve got an idea.” Shepard pressed in beside Kaidan and looked down at Joker’s dash. “Let me access the relay’s queue. It’s a long shot, but it might work.”

“Sir, we need to get out of here,” Mark said. 

Another flash of light set off alarms overhead. Flames ignited behind them in the CIC. Crew screamed and scrambled over each other. A few had fire extinguishers. Kaidan touched his ear, probably getting ship-wide updates.

“Want me to wag our asses out of here or not?” Joker yelled back at him. “One more fuel cell goes out, we go from doing the hulu to dancing a box step.”

“Sir, it’s got to be now.” Mark scrambled to check the flashing alarm icons in front of him. “There’s an opening to break free if we--”

“Kaidan.” Shepard gripped his arm. “Even if we shake them, the other krogan ships will still be here guarding the relay. It’s light years of dead space to another active relay, and we’re crippled. We’re not escaping this system, except through that relay. Right now.”

Kaidan turned to Joker. “Give Shepard access to the relay’s signal.”

“You can read relay code?” Joker gave her a skeptical look. “We can’t wait for this. Now’s the time. We’re gotta lose them if--”

“Do it, Lieutenant,” Kaidan’s voice cracked like a whip.

Joker gave Kaidan a sharp look and muttered something under his breath. He scooted over to let Shepard access the dash.

“You really know this stuff?” Joker asked her.

“No.”

“What? Admiral!” Joker spun to Kaidan.

“Focus on flying the ship, Joker.” Kaidan’s voice had an edge.

“Starboard back thrusters are failing,” Mark said.

“They’re coming around on us again.” Joker flipped into action, elbowed Shepard over, and raced his fingers over the screen. Sweat glinted on his cheeks. The holoscreen dash consumed his attention. “Both of them are flying at us again. A cruiser broke off the line. It’s coming up at us too. We should have run.”

“Stay close to the relay and keep the signal. Do what you need to do,” Kaidan said. He held his Omni-Tool to his mouth, and his voice came overhead. “All hands brace for evasive maneuvers.”

Shepard grabbed the arm of Joker’s chair. The metal shuddered under her feet, and the ship twisted. Behind them in the CIC, things rolled across the floor: spent fire extinguishers, datapads, who knew what. The floor steadied under her again.

Shepard touched the holoscreen. A keyboard touch screen lit up under Shepard’s fingers. She disabled the translator and switched to Tuchanka’s main dialect. The keyboard shifted into rows with fifty-eight keys.

Mark frowned over at her. “You can’t read that, can you?”

“Incoming!” Joker yelled.

The impact shook the ship. Shepard slammed face-first into the dash. Pain split through her head. Gasping, she tasted blood.

“Shepard!” Kaidan said.

“I’m all right.” She rocked back onto her heels. Blood ran down the bridge of her nose from a hot throbbing in her forehead. Her hands trembling, she touched the krogan letters. It had been weeks, and she may not remember it right. One month in Tuchanka barely made up for a lifetime of knowing nothing about krogan.

“FTL drive is at sixty percent,” Mark said. “Losing propulsion acuity.”

“Ass waggin’s off the table now. Great command decision,” Joker snapped in Kaidan’s direction.

Kaidan was focused on the CIC. “You and you -- put out that fire. Hanson, shut off electricity to those consoles.” Kaidan turned back and bent down to where his face was level with Joker. “Keep it up, Moreau. You’ll have your ass grounded until we dock.”

“Won’t matter if we die. We can’t get outta here now thanks to you. I’m gonna lose the Normandy again.”

“Joker, stop being a jackass,” Shepard muttered.

The touch screen under Shepard’s fingers turned red. Shepard frowned and backspaced. She respelled it, but the screen went red again.

“See! You don’t know what you’re doing.” Joker waved at her.

“Stick to piloting, Lieutenant,” Kaidan’s voice snapped so sharply Shepard cringed.

“Gonna kick me off duty, Kaidan? Go ahead.” 

“Joker? Seriously?” Shepard growled.

“We’ve got more incoming!” Mark sat up higher, breathing becoming ragged.

“Joker,” Kaidan warned. “Dying here is going to be less painful than what happens if you live. Focus on the job.”

“See!” Joker said, turning to Shepard and Mark. “He’s not even thinking we’re breaking out of this one. Doesn’t care. Some of us actually have stuff to live for, Kaidan. We don’t all wanna die like you do.”

Mark’s eyes rounded like balloons on Joker. They shifted to Kaidan and then back to Joker.

“Lieutenant,” Kaidan pointed at Mark, “Steer. And you?” Kaidan bent down by Joker’s face. “You didn’t like me writing you up once, wait until I get a hold of your personnel file now. Now, stop talking, and keep us in the air.”

The ship turned sharply away from a burst of light. Shepard rocked against Joker.

“You’re getting blood on me,” Joker muttered.

Kaidan loomed behind Joker. His fingers clenched so tightly onto Joker’s headrest, the leather would bear the fingermarks forever. He caught Shepard looking at him.

“Keep trying, Shepard.”

She turned back to the screen. A dozen attempts went nowhere. She tried again. Red.

“Let’s retreat,” Kaidan said finally. “We need to break away from them.”

Mark shot Kaidan an incredulous look. “We took too much damage now. We can’t--”

“Try it. We’ve nothing to lose,” Kaidan said.

“Retreating could’ve worked ten minutes ago. Now we just die.” Joker grumbled under his breath, but his hands flew across the screen.

“Sir, look!” Mark pointed at the radar. “The line of krogan ships blocking the relay. They’re all coming at us now.”

“Tired of waiting,” Shepad said. “Very krogan. Very . . . Waiting . . .”

She remembered the word. She punched in each letter and pushed the button. Green.

“It worked!” Shepard shot to her feet. 

A string of krogan warships were coming at them in the window. Behind the ships spun the blue light of the mass relay. 

“Whoa! Now way. Got the transmission signal!” Mark twisted to the side console. “Approved to jump.”

Joker brought up his own screen. “We jumped queue.”

“Relaying mass and destination. Acquiring engagement parameters. We’re a go, sir.”

“Get us out of here. Hit the relay and jump,” Kaidan said.

“Got some birds in our way first, but aye, aye,” Joker scooted onto the edge of his seat.

“Brace,” Kaidan called overhead.

The krogan ships spanned out between them and the relay. Joker pushed the ship into full throttle. The metal around them vibrated into a full rattle. The ship’s VI never would have allowed it.

“How’re you balancing the propulsion?” Mark stared over at him. “With the starboard out three cells and--”

“Get my autograph later, man. Concentrating.”

The relay’s blue light grew brighter in their field of view but so did the metallic tint of krogan warships diverging on them. White light exploded through space. Lasers firing. Joker spun the ship. Shepard clung onto Joker’s seat like she might be spaced. The ship screeched, and something metal tore off in front of them.

“Didn’t need that dampener anyway,” Joker muttered and pushed the ship harder.

Ships were moving into their path. Joker fired. The nearest cruiser maneuvered and absorbed the Normandy’s flash of canon fire. It was enough to distract the ship, and the Normandy burst past. The blue center of the mass relay spun faster directly in front of them. 

“Locked,” Mark said.

Blue light blinded them. The floor lifted under them. Shepard lost her hold on the chair and hit the floor. Her hands were shaking too hard to grasp anything. Light faded off the windows. The ground steadied and black space spread before them.

“Jump successful, sir.”

Joker’s eyes shot to the ladar at his elbow. “Relay cycling. Ship coming through behind us.”

“Take us into the nebula.” Kaidan pulled Shepard to her feet. “Stealth systems on.”

“We’re leaking from the portside fuel core, sir.”

“The heavy gas inside the nebula will shield detection,” Kaidan said.

“At least, they’ll have to look harder,” Joker agreed.

Kaidan touched his ear. “Commander Carpenter?”

One of the officers at a gangway console looked over at him. “Commander Carpenter hit her head. She’s in the infirmary.”

“Shepard,” Kaidan said. “See us into the nebula. Joker, get me Command in the QEC.”

Kaidan trotted down the gangway into the smoke and commotion of the CIC. Joker punched up the comm channels on his dash, while Mark guided them toward the clouded gases of the nebula.

“Command standing by, Admiral,” Joker said.

Kaidan must have responded to the positive, because Joker patched the call into the QEC.

“What started this?” Shepard asked.

“The krogan ships descended on us,” Mark said.

“Same thing as this whole trip,” Joker said. “Someone told them we were coming. Alenko had us coming in slow on stealth. Think he expected something. Not this though. A whole company? Came in from behind. Surrounded us. We weren’t getting out.”

“Not without a good ass wagging?” Shepard folded her hands behind her back. It had been a long time since she stood like this on the bridge of the Normandy.

“Damn straight,” Joker said. He gave Mark a cursory look then lowered his voice for Shepard. “You think I, uh . . . I got him pretty pissed, right?”

Shepard’s eyebrows rose. “Damn straight. You really need someone else confirming that?”

“No, I mean . . .” Joker tilted his head to call shepard in closer. “You know, I mean, like really, really pissed? Upset, hurt or whatever?”

“What do you mean?”

“That stuff I said maybe about him wanting to die or whatever. You know, all that other crap I may have said.”

“No, maybe, Joker. You said it.” Shepard glanced back down the gangway and chewed her lip. “Worry about this right now. Just focus on getting us back to Sol.”

“Hard with sharks circling us,” Joker said. “More krogan ships are coming through the relay, and we’re crippled. Easy kill.”

“I’m sure that’s why Kaidan’s calling Command.” Shepard narrowed her eyes down the gangway and waited.

*** 

Hiding in the nebula wouldn’t keep them alive for long with the krogan company of warships surrounding and searching for them. The engineers scrambled to refit the FTL cell’s power supply and replace the fuses. The dampeners had shorted out from Joker’s hairbrained death spiraling. More than one had torn off, lost to history and space. 

The Normandy drifted in the nebula’s pockets of gas and particles, slowly edging away from the searching ships. The krogan vessels were tightened in on the Normandy’s position with each revolution. They’d drifted purposefully toward the mass relay to Sol, but it was too far to make a run for it. Leaving cover of the densest part of the nebula and in the ship’s fragile condition, it would be open hunting season. They’d be a duckling scrambling on an iced pond. A quick death.

“Low fuel reserves?” Shepard spoke into the comm on her Omni-Tool and paced the cockpit. “Activate the fuel recycler. I know it’s old. Find the manuals the quarians made for us ten years ago. We need to be ready to run. We can’t run out of fuel and sputter out.”

The engineer’s voice was irritated. “It’s too dangerous to restart an old recycler system like that. It hasn’t been maintained.”

“Deactivate it when we activate propulsion. No one’s more aware of the system’s combustibility than me. We’ll flush the lines. Recycle as much fuel as we can while sitting here. Pump it back into the less leaky tanks.”

“Shepard.” Kaidan came up the gangway.

Shepard switched off the comm. “What did Command say?”

“The fleets stranded outside Sol are coming this direction. Fleet one’s the closest, but they escaped Arcturus with only a fifth of their ships. They won’t turn the tides much, even if they do arrive in time.”

“Dammit.”

“The Alliance is mobilizing in Sol. After we fix the Sol relay, they’ll come through and aid the stranded fleets. If more krogan vessels arrive, our stranded fleets will be destroyed. If any krogan vessels pursue us into Sol, they’ll regret it.”

“Gotta make it to the relay first. The krogan following us through is down the list.” Joker spun around in his seat.

“I’m not ready to talk to you,” Kaidan said. “Turn back around.”

Joker harrumphed and swung his seat back around with a thump. Kaidan’s eyes shifted to Shepard.

“At least, we made it this far,” Shepard said.

“What was that back there, Shepard? How did you know priority codes for a krogan relay?”

“Wrex told me about a legendary krogan city, a sort of Garden of Eden, true paradise. It was destroyed in Tuchanka’s nuclear wars eons ago. Most krogan have forgotten about it. They want blood instead of the Camelot they once had.” Shepard held up a hand to prevent Kaidan interrupting. He seemed impatient. “Anyway, their ancestors used the city’s name as the relay’s overriding code as a reminder to themselves to seek something greater beyond the gate. Now the krogan clan leaders only know the word as that -- a key to the door to war -- instead of the key to a life better than war. The name means ‘Waiting Light’ in ancient krogan.”

Kaidan’s frown deepened. “Why would Wrex tell you something that important and secret?”

“Because he was drunk and having a good time. Sparring and making toasts. He knew he could trust me.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“I’m not a traitor, Kaidan. I don’t know this because of some shady deal, or because I’m conspiring with the krogan.”

“I didn’t say that. Only . . . You knew how to drive that krogan shuttle too. You gave Wrex the krogan history lesson about the drunk warrior who fell off the roof. You spoke some krogan insult at Wreav.”

“What can I say? You like tech. I like krogan culture and history.”

“Hmm.” Kaidan eyed her then turned back to the cockpit. “I tried to contact the Council, but they’re in recess. Nothing’s centralized enough to get a commitment anyway. Our hope’s on Fleet One.”

“The krogan ships have to know we have help coming,” Shepard said.

“They’re narrowing their search field. They probably think they’ll find us first. Even with one fifth of a fleet, it will be a decent match for their seven ships.”

“Know you’re all pissed at me,” Joker said over his shoulder, “but just as a correction: it isn’t seven. It’s eleven.”

“Eleven?”

“I’m counting a dozen, Admiral,” Mark said.

Joker checked his ladar. “Oh. Sorry. Dozen now.”

“They’re amassing.” Kaidan’s eyes dropped to the ladar and widened. Breath rushed out his mouth, and he bent closer. “What the hell’s that?”

Joker magnified the area and pulled up a screen of streaming sensory data. His hands froze on the console.

“Then it is . . .” Kaidan’s throat bobbed in a swallow, and he stood back.

“Uh, yes.” Joker’s voice wavered. He cleared it. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s a dreadnought.”

“Son of a bitch.” Mark’s mouth hung open.

“Get me Command again.” Kaidan stumbled back around. “Dammit.”

***

They waited in the cockpit: fidgeting, pacing, no one speaking. 

“Running out of room to hide, Admiral,” Joker said morosely.

“The fleet is coming,” Kaidan said, but his expression was dark.

Whatever pidley part of Fleet One that was on its way wasn’t any match for a dreadnought, let alone a dreadnought and its continually expanding entourage of cruiser vessels. Kaidan must have been thinking the same thing. He kept rubbing a hand over his face and pacing.

“Incoming. Got another one added to the horde,” Joker said.

Kaidan came up behind Joker. “Still nothing from the Council?”

“You sent your message thirty minutes ago. I haven’t forgotten about it, if they call.”

“Do you think any of the councilors got your message?” Shepard asked. The reception in this part of the nebula for FTL communication was spotty.

“Think they got yours?” Kaidan asked.

“I bet mine had more profanity.”

“Sir,” Mark said. “The dreadnought is breaking off. It’s entering the nebula.”

“And the cruiser that’s almost on top of us?” Kaidan asked.

“Still closing in.” Mark’s eyes widened. “Wait. Holy--She’s found us!”

“All systems go.” Kaidan stepped between the pilots’ chairs. “We’re making a run for it.”

“Want me to take out the ship?” Joker brought up weapon systems. “To clarify: the cruiser, not the dreadnaught.”

“Negative,” Kaidan said. “Focus on evasion as before. We weren’t going to take out seven cruisers then, we’re not taking out twenty-two now. No point in taking out one.”

A blue dot blinked on Mark’s side screen. 

“Sir! Alliance ship detected.”

“Krogan ship firing!” Joker slammed keys on the dash.

The deck shifted beneath them. This time it didn’t pancake anyone to the wall. The VI was back on and holding Joker in check.

“Recycler lines flushed?” Shepard asked into the comm.

The windows flashed bright white. The ship lurched like hitting a wave. Shepard grabbed the wall.

“Two more cruisers joining her and coming at us,” Joker said.

“We can’t outrun them,” Mark said. “Sir, they’re closing.”

“I got it.” Joker jabbed a red button and punched in a code.

“Joker, no. Not again,” Shepard hissed.

“Do you want to die?” Joker asked. “I got us out last time.”

“You left an eighth of the ship behind,” Shepard said.

“But I got seven eighths of the ship here. Again, that wasn’t my flying. Lasers.”

“Some it was your--”

“Stop,” Kaidan said. “Are they still closing?”

“Yes, sir,” Mark said.

“Can I have creative freedom?” Joker said testily and turned around to look at Kaidan.

“Fine.” Kaidan grabbed the bulkhead and spoke into his comm. “All hands brace.”

Kaidan got the last word out and the alarms went off overhead. The ship fell and twisted. The gravity shift made her headache worse.

“Cannon fire,” Mark yelled.

“And the dreadnought?” Kaidan said. 

“Turning toward us, sir.”

“Oh, no, she doesn’t.” Joker laughed and turned wide.

Flashes of light crossed through space in front of them.

“Got too fat an ass and too much muscle,” Joker said. “Can’t dance with the rest of us and keep up.”

“Aim toward Relay two. Right there.” Kaidan pointed on the ladar. “We’ll jump into Sol.”

“What ya think I’m doing?”

“Alliance cruisers incoming, sir,” Mark said. “Six so far. On intercept with us. Relay two is dead ahead. Straight shot.”

“The krogan cruisers following us?”

“Still on us, sir.”

The Normandy spun making Shepard’s empty stomach feel full. A krogan ship flashed by the window. A vessel with the Alliance insignia fired, but the laser streamed past the krogan ship’s nose.

“Bad aim.” Joker whistled. “Who flies the Pegasus nowadays? You know, Mark?”

Mark moved like a hurricane, hands rushing all over the screen, cursing, and squinting out the window. “More FTL drives failing. We’re losing momentum.”

“Think it’s Jessica Curren? Never could aim worth a damn.”

“FTL at forty percent.”

“Don’t know why you’d want a pilot who’s only skill is flying. Got the whole ship as one giant firearm, right? You’d think--”

“Joker. Stop talking,” Kaidan said. “What’s our status reaching the relay? We’re still under fire?”

“Affirmative. Two krogan cruisers still on us. They’re ignoring the incoming Alliance ships. Got a dozen Alliance ships, all Fleet One. No more incoming.”

“We’re fine. Got this,” Joker said.

“Starting to coast faster than the thrusters. Course adjustment lagging.”

“Joker, have you acquired the signal?”

“Getting it now.”

“Are we close enough?” Shepard asked.

They approached the relay that connected to Sol. It burned with biotic light. The Sol relay may only have one activation left. For her, everything depended on that activation not being the last. The fractured Shard couldn’t shatter.

“The ships are coming up behind us,” Mark warned. “They’re firing.”

“Brace for impact.” Kaidan’s voice cut off in a wave of blue light.

The ship lifted. Shepard’s vision flashed. It was the moment of truth. If the Sol relay’s fractured Shard lasted this final activation, then she was home free. The galaxy and the Alliance were safe, and she could return home without anything left on her conscience. 

The inertia settled and light drained away from the windows. The Sol relay glowed behind them as you’d expect to see from any relay. Intact. Unchanged. The anxiety clenched in Shepard’s chest drained away. They faced a sea of metal ships with Alliance insignia waiting for them.

“The Fleets from Earth,” Kaidan said. “Joker, swing around. Stay low for pursuers through the relay.”

“Krogan’d be dumb to do that.” Joker shook his head. 

“Had you counting your sins a few minutes ago, didn’t they?” Shepard said.

“Yeah, well, they gotta know we have--”

“Relay is engaging,” Mark said suddenly.

“What?” Shepard straightened.

“Coming through,” Mark said. 

A flash of blue radiance blinded them. So bright it blinded them. It rang in her ears like thunder. An eruption rocked the ship. Shepard stumbled sideways. Alarms sounded. Kaidan called for statuses over his comm.

“What was that?” Shepard said.

“The relay. Look!” Joker pointed.

A krogan ship sailed through space having come from the relay. The Alliance ships converged on it. That wasn’t what Joker was pointing at or what drew Shepard’s eye. The bright blue center of the mass relay had gone dark. Shepard’s legs gave out. She grabbed the wall. 

“I think that busted Shard finally shattered,”Joker said. “That krogan ship activated it one too many times. Good thing we got the other one, right?”

The fractured Shard had been her ticket home. If it was gone . . . She eyed Kaidan. He was speaking into his comm and yelling back at officers in the CIC. One Shard. Her heart sank. One Shard to activate the Sol relay and save the Alliance or to shatter and send her home.


	18. Red or Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1 of "Sideways"

**CHAPTER 18: Red or Blue**

“The krogan ship’s splitting in two,” Mark, the co-pilot, sat up higher in his chair.

The Alliance fleets in Sol had converged on the relay. The glowing blue center of the relay had hollowed into darkness. Shepard stood next to Joker, staring out the window, and listening to her heart beat. The Sol relay’s fractured Shard had shattered.

“Incoming transmission from Command.” Joker pushed a button and looked back at Kaidan.

“Keep systems offline and wait for damage reports before restoring nonessential functions,” Kaidan told him. 

Kaidan snagged Shepard’s arm and cocked his head toward the QEC. Shepard didn’t question it and followed him across the CIC. The QEC was already lit up with a familiar hologram. 

“Admiral Alenko. Shepard,” Cicero greeted them.

“What was that explosion?” Shepard asked. She had to know for sure the fractured Shard was gone.

Cicero ignored her. “The krogan have engaged our fleets in the nebula. Fleet Three and Four, the parts of them stranded on that side, have joined One. They’re taking heavy casualties. The krogan dreadnaughs have cut off their retreat.”

“Dreadnaughts? More than one?” Kaidan asked.

“A plural noun denotes two or more of something. Do keep up, Alenko.” Cicero folded his hands behind his back. “More krogan ships are entering through Serpent Nebula’s Relay One from Tuchanka. It’s a trap. Our fleets will be completely destroyed in an hour if they can’t escape. We need the Sol relay online. Now.” 

“Understood,” Kaidan said.

“Once it’s activated, our fleets in Sol can reinforce units stranded in the Nebula. We have twenty-one ships trapped.”

“I don’t need more incentive,” Kaidan said.

“Did Sol’s fractured Shard shatter?” Shepard pressed.

“Shepard, we need to go.” Kaidan moved to the platform’s stairs.

“Good luck, Alenko,” Cicero said. “This has been a troubling mission. Parliament worried you’d stir the hornets’ nest. Now look. The consequence of your decisions is killing soldiers even as we speak. A thousand lives lost would have considerable weight on a fragile conscience like yours, I’d imagine. I do hope you hurry.”

Shepard turned off the QEC and turned to Kaidan. “That explosion. Do we know--”

“Shepard, come on. We need to get this done. I’ll get the Shard from the armory.”

Shepard forced her legs to move after him, but she couldn’t help the coldness growing in her heart. She had already decided what she’d choose if it came down to it.

***

Kaidan shoved the Mass Effect Shard into Shepard’s hands and climbed into the shuttle behind her. He slammed the door shut behind them. 

“Let’s go,” Kaidan said to the pilot.

Shepard sat on the bench and turned the black stone over in her hands. “So much struggle over something so small.”

“I don’t think the krogan care about the Shard.” Kaidan sat beside her. “It’s about us invading their territory and stealing something. If we took Wreav’s toothbrush, they’d still be chasing us with dreadnaughts.”

“Someone took my toothbrush, I’d chase them through a blackhole.”

“Ah. Forgot about you and your amazing feats with a toothbrush. If we took Wreav’s dental floss then. That a better example?”

Shepard tried to smile but couldn’t bring it higher than the corners of her lips. The shuttle vibrated around them. The relay filled the window in front of the pilot.

“This is the last step,” Kaidan said, eying the relay.

“Is it the last step?” Shepard said doubtfully. “The Alliance is in open war. The krogan mobilizing. You and your hearing. What if this doesn’t work? What happens to the Alliance, to the galaxy, to you?”

Kaidan put a hand on her back. “You can do this. You’ve done everything right so far.”

She didn’t answer. They neared the relay, and Kaidan stood. He gripped the handhold above the pilot’s seat and stared out the window. Shepard had the necessary equipment from Miranda. The hardware for the electrical field was installed in her Omni-Tool, and the software program was ready. The vial of eezo was ready for injection. 

After she shattered the Shard in the beam, she didn’t want to see Kaidan’s face and go through the motions of accepting the loss with him. She’d leave in a flash of light right after the Shard shattered. Once it was shattered, she’d activate the electricity module. She needed everything else ready. With a shaky finger, she injected the eezo into her blood.

***

Shepard’s hands were shaking worse than ever. She moved the Shard between her hands, flexing her fingers, and flicking feeling back into them. Damn hands. Why now? Of all times.

She and Kaidan offloaded from the shuttle onto a docking platform. Their grav boots crunched on the ice. Two other shuttles sat idle and ahead of them stood a tunnel into the relay. The entrance had a blue veil of light across it, and men in armor waved them through. Passing through the shield, weight settled in Shepard’s bones. The gravity generator must be functioning. This was an active relay, and one that over the last ten years, had been ceaselessly studied.

“Main chamber’s directly ahead,” a woman said.

“We had an explosion,” another soldier said, coming up beside the woman. The way the other officers fell back, this must be the commanding officer.

“Explosion?” Shepard said and tightened the Shard in her shaky fist.

“Something deep inside the relay. Probably in the main chamber. It happened when the last ship came through. I drew my people back.”

“The Shard finally broke?” Shepard tried to keep the intensity low, but her body froze waiting on his words.

“I think that’s likely,” the man said. He turned to Kaidan. “It’s a sheet of ice all the way in, Admiral. The closer you are to the main chamber, the less stable it becomes. Terrain’s iffy for my soldiers to follow you in, but . . .”

“They won’t be needed, Captain. Spectre Shepard and I can manage it.” 

“Aye, aye, sir.” The man waved his soldiers out of their way. They fell back, lining the wall of the tunnel, and snapping a salute in Kaidan’s direction.

“Admiral Alenko, sir,” one said.

Kaidan and Shepard left the soldiers behind and pushed deeper into the tunnel. Battery-powered lights created a dim pathway through the icy corridor. Shepard’s boots slipped on the ice, and she windmilled her arms to keep her balance. For a second, she considered engaging her grav boots, but something told her it would be like ice skating. She wasn’t good at ice skating. But, at least, she wasn’t alone sliding around on the ice.

“Glad they’re not saluting me now,” Kaidan snagged the wall and steadied himself. “Don’t need an extranet vid of me  _ literally _ falling on my ass.”

“This is icier than the krogan relay.”

“The dorman relay’s tunnels were narrowed and blocked by frost. Here it’s been cleared, but you’ll always have ice.”

“They could have put some cat litter down for us.”

“In low grav? We’d be swimming in it.”

“Gravity gets better deeper in.”

“Not that good. Might be able to cat litter the bridges or the rim around the chasm, but that’s it.”

Her feet slipped out from under her. Kaidan caught her arm and steadied her.

“Thanks.”

Kaidan frowned at her hand suddenly. His grip slid from her elbow to her fingers. He sandwiched her palm between his gloves.

“You’re shaking.” He looked up at her. The light lining the plexiglass in his helmet gave his eyes a penetrating brightness.

“I’m fine.” She pulled her hand back.

“Where’s the Shard?”

She held it up in her other hand and tightened her hold to keep it steady. The Shard trembled. She dropped her hand quickly.

“I’ve got it. See.” She started forward.

Kaidan snagged her shoulder. “Maybe I should take it. Your hands are shaking.”

“That’s all you care about? Me, dropping this nearly-indestructible stone on the floor in low grav? Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

Kaidan released her shoulder with a frown. She continued forward, and he fell in beside her.

“Why’re you shaking, Shepard? Even your arms.”

Shepard quickened her steps, but he kept pace. 

“Is it just your upper limbs? I could feel it up your arm all the way through your suit.”

“If I knew you were feeling up my arm, I would have flexed.”

“Your hands were shaking in the ship’s battery days ago,” Kaidan recalled. “The mess hall, too. In this relay and the other one, but not in your cabin or the CIC. . .”

“Let’s focus on getting to the inner chamber.” Shepard fixed her eyes forward on the thin glow of ethereal light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t far now. A tremor ran up her calf. Her legs buckled. Kaidan caught her by the elbow again.

“It’s in your legs too?” He didn’t let go of her elbow, even after she was steadied on her feet. 

“It’s nothing. Come on.”

“It’s not nothing.” Kaidan released her arm. “I know what this is. You have eezo-nodule tissue damage.”

“What?” Shepard spun around on him. “What are you talking about?”

“Permanent biotic neural damage. Do you take meds for it?”

“Meds?” 

Miranda had said something about medication. It felt so long ago now. When Shepard first explored her barracks, she had found a prescription bottle in the bathroom.

“I missed some doses,” Shepard said vaguely, then eyed him. “How do you know anything about it?”

“I have the same thing. Developed a few months ago. Somehow. I have a drug-eluting Tyricol implant.” He touched the inside of his biceps then studied her. “Your tremors are erratic.” 

“I was fine on the shuttle.” Shepard turned back down the tunnel and picked up her pace. 

“Your hands were steadier then,” Kaidan agreed. They kept a quick pace on the slippery ice, but Kaidan wasn’t giving it up. “It’s too abrupt to be this bad if you were fine on the shuttle.”

“I’ll pop a pill when I get back to the ship.” Shepard reaffirmed her hold on the Shard and drove down the tunnel faster than ever. “Come on! You’re wasting time.”

“I’ve never gotten as bad as you. I don’t know what happens, but it can’t be good. Have you been close to eezo? Being in the relay can’t help.”

Every time they jumped a relay, her hands had shaken. When she was on the crew deck and closer to the ship’s eezo core, the tremors would start. Eezo made it worse. Shepard’s core went cold. She’d just injected eezo into her blood.

“Let’s hurry,” Shepard spoke over whatever Kaidan was about to say.

She ran. It was a full sprint. Kaidan’s boots clomped behind her. Ice split and moaned under her footfalls, and she heard Kaidan slipping on the ice behind her. In her peripheral vision, she could see he was staying upright but struggling.

“Shepard! Slow down.”

“We need to finish this.”

Light brightened ahead of her. She skidded into the vaulted inner chamber. It expanded over her. Ice shrouded the walls. The chasm gaped with icicles hanging from the frosted bridged. A beam of mist illuminated down the center of the bridges, but the light was thin and dull, clouded with gray. It wasn’t vibrant white like it should be. The fractured Mass Effect Shard was gone. Shepard’s heart leadened in her chest. 

“It did shatter,” Shepard whispered.

Kaidan tumbled out of the tunnel, feeting skating on the ice, and arms spreading for balance. He looked up at the gray beam.

“They estimated in two or three jumps it would give out,” he said.

Shepard curled her fist around the Shard. A tremor ran up her arm like lightening. Her body shook. The taste of metal grew at the back of her throat. Blood. Pain exploded through her limbs. In her chest. In her head. 

“Shepard!”

Sound muted. Her vision cut into darkness. She was falling. The Shard loosened in her hand. The world burst like a bubble and ceased to exist. She ceased to exist.

***

“Shepard?” It was Kaidan’s voice.

The world came in and out of focus. Kaidan’s fingertips pressed against the plexiglass on the edge of her vision. Two layers of glass separated their faces. His eyes were wide and frantic.

“Shepard. Shepard, are you awake? Can you see me?”

Her tongue stung. Her mouth was full of molten metal, but her vision and hearing was sharpening. She shifted against the ice, trying to draw a full breath, and flexed her fingers. Flexed her fingers . . . They were empty.

“The Shard,” she gurgled and struggled to sit up.

“No.” Kaidan held her down by the shoulders. “Don’t move.”

Ice groaned under her helmet, and she looked sideways into darkness. Her heart stopped. They were on the rim of the chasm. Kaidan was on his knees beside her. He released her shoulders slowly.

“Shepard, are you all right?”

“The Shard.” Shepard swallowed the metal in her mouth.

“I know. You were seizing. You fell. Went over the edge of the ice.”

“You caught me?”

“The Shard slid over the edge with you.”

“No!” Shepard scrambled to sit up again.

Kaidan steadied her by the shoulders but didn’t try to stop her sitting up. “Careful. The ice is slick and breaking.”

“You didn’t catch it? The Shard . . .”

“I couldn’t catch everything. It happened so fast.” Kaidan exhaled a heavy breath into the comm. “I thought I might have snared it biotically, but I couldn’t see over the rim. You slid over the edge right behind it.”

“I should have let you hold it.” 

She hadn’t wanted to give it up. He might have walked onto the bridge, right up to the beam, and said he was ready to put it in place. Fear of missing her chance to shatter it had lost them the Shard. 

“There are a thousand Alliance soldiers on the other side of this relay.” Kaidan’s voice was distant as if realizing the full ramifications. “They have nothing to rival a dreadnought.”

All for nothing then. Nothing gained. Not for him, not for the people in this timeline, and not for her. She’d thrown accelerant on a fire, dragged Kaidan’s career through the mud, and wasted Sol’s only chance of restoring the relay. Kaidan was stranded on the wrong side now. The longer his daughter lived with Liara’s aunt, the more settled she became. Kaidan would give her up. The thought choked her. It choked her more than the empty feeling of knowing she wasn’t going home.

Shepard felt a tickle of familiar energy buzzing in the air, something biotic but not organic. She leaned over the chasm’s ledge. Kaidan clawed at her arm holding her as the wind rushed into her plexiglassed face.

“Shepard, what are you doing? You’re still shaking. You could seize again.”

Stalactites of ice, like in the dormant relay, hung down from the ledge. The frosted chunks of ice overlapped each other like frozen waterfalls, uneven and rough with growing frost. They lead her eyes into the endlessness deep below. The darkness made her muscles tense. A glint of something caught her eye. Her heart beat faster.

“Kaidan!” Shepard fell on her stomach for leverage and craned her neck further out over the abyss. There was nothing to grip onto with her hands, and the ice creaked underneath her. There it was: a fleck of onyx caught in snowy sides of the chasm’s ice. “The Shard, Kaidan! Look.”

“What?” Kaidan slowly released his hold on her arm. He slid onto his stomach beside her and looked over the rim of the cavern. The ground crackled beneath him. They both froze, but the sound died away as his weight distributed. “It’s caught in that frosted crevice. How? The fall trajectory . . .”

“Maybe you did snag it,” Shepard said. “You pulled it against the wall before letting go. It’s in a precarious spot.”

“It’s a long ways down.” Kaidan flicked on his Omni-Tool light and turned the beam to its highest setting. The black stone drank in the light.

“It’s barely holding.” Shepard caught Kaidan’s eye. “You’ll have to get it. I can’t pinch something that small and slippery with my biotics. Not from this distance.”

“I don’t know.” Kaidan’s eyes darted to the Shard. He adjusted his leverage on the ice and reached out his hand. Blue energy flickered over him. “It’s slick. I’m . . .”

Kaidan released a long, slow breath. His face scrunched inside his helmet. The ice creaked beneath them.

“You’re what?” Shepard stretched her head over the icy rim to see.

“I’m going to have trouble grasping it. It’s too far.” He paused with his hand stretched over the edge and licked his lips. “I have one chance, I think.”

Shepard pulled back from the edge. “Go ahead.”

Light flared in the darkness below them. The Shard was a speck from this distance, and Shepard had to squint against the blue light to see it. The Shard shifted against the ice. White flecks of frost trickled into the darkness as it moved. It lifted. It pulled free of the ice.

“Barely have it,” Kaidan said through his teeth.

He leaned further out and splayed his fingers on the ice. The ice groaned.

“Kaidan, careful you--”

The ice cracked. The ground under Kaidan's hand buckled and broke. Kaidan tumbled with it. Shepard caught his hand. He dangled over the edge, but he was looking down, not up.

“No!” He lurched against her grip and reached out with his free hand.

The Shard tumbled into the darkness and fell in the beam of his Omni-Tool. 

“No!” Kaidan strained after it with his biotics.

Shepard flared and pushed outward with her energy. It was a clear path into the core of his energy. Kaidan’s biotics surged. Blue light exploded in her face. The Shard stopped. It hung deep below them in the thinnest glow of light from his Omni-Tool. The Shard was only a pinprick of blue light. Kaidan hung from her hand, his face slick with sweat inside his helmet, and breathing ragged. His eyes widened up at her.

“Bring it up fast,” Shepard said. “Don’t think about what I’m doing.”

Resistance wavered at the edge of their connection. If he reflexively guarded and lashed at her with his energy, it would ruin everything. She stood in a dark room of dynamite holding a candle. Kaidan pulled his eyes away. Energy flared from his body. 

Shepard closed her eyes. His biotics waved over her and through the air, familiar and warm, calm despite the growing resistance and gathering backlash. Guilt tainted the gentle swell of depth and calm that came with the touch. Amplifying his biotics this way was intimate. 

Kaidan’s energy died away. She pulled her energy back and opened her eyes. Kaidan held the Shard in one hand while dangling from the other. The face he turned up to her was guarded and tired, but not cold. 

Guilt flushed inside her again. She hadn’t done it to enjoy the closeness. It was hardly different than savoring the touch of his hand or feel of arms around her shoulders. If she relished the smell of him, the feel of him, the familiarity in his breath and warmth, it didn’t use him. She wasn’t like the other Shepard. She’d never take advantage of him.

Kaidan was still breathing fast when she pulled him over the ledge. He crawled to his feet and offered her a hand up. She took it. The lower part of her helmet was smeared with blood and saliva. Hopefully, it obscured her giddy grin. They’d saved the Shard.

“Let’s finish this.” He opened his fingers and the Shard rested in his palm. The air buzzed with the Shard’s strange energy. It was the unique energy that drew her to look over the ledge. “Do you want it?”

He was asking her. The exuberance of his biotics rushing inside her cut away in an instant. The stone stared up at her. For a moment, she was in the red dress again, surrounded by papery, white aspen, the dark shape of an unfinished house in the distance. A trail of footsteps disappeared in the sand and wind. She blinked, and it was gone. She stood in a vaulted chamber of ice and metal again. She glimpsed Kaidans’ face through the reflective face shield: steady brown eyes and a mouth set in a straight line. Waiting.

“Are you still feeling off, Shepard?”

She slid over the edge of the chasm with a seizure, but he’d caught her. He’d caught her, even though it meant losing the Shard. The Shard would save his Alliance, his reputation, his relationship with his daughter. Hours ago, he’d been slouched against an empty fish tank, eyes glistening, and he’d pulled her to him. He’d shared his guilt and turmoil. He’d trusted her, confided in her. His hurt was real. He was real. They were all real. The Shard could fix more lives than just hers. 

But the memories were starting to come, and her time was running out. She’s already remembered Illium. In the space of weeks, she’d covered three years of memories. How fast could the remaining years go by? The Shard was her chance before it was too late.

Her throat closed. “I’ll take it. I’m feeling better.”

Kaidan eyed her as she took the stone. “We go up the bridges as before? Are you sure? You just--”

“I feel better.” Shepard looked away quickly. “Take the opposite bridge. Let’s get this over with.”

Kaidan moved away without a further word. Shepard plodded the opposite direction and shoved the Shard into her utility belt. Her hands were still alarmingly shaky. Whether it was getting worse again, she couldn’t tell. She couldn’t feel anything beyond the pit in her stomach. 

She was ready. She had the eezo in her blood. Once she shattered the Shard by ‘accident’ overhead, she’d be covered with the dust. One tap on the screen of her Omni-Tool, and Miranda’s hardware mod would burst electricity into the air. She’d jump from this timeline to home. The other Shepard wouldn’t be fixed in place yet. She’d be knocked out of Shepard’s place and come back here. Everything would be set right.

Ice coated the bridge in a thin sheet. Shepard scooted her feet along the glossy metal. She kept her hands out to steady herself. She was shaky and could still have another seizure, perhaps at any time, but if this didn’t work -- she didn’t get home -- then it didn’t matter if she fell. She’d only regret taking the Shard with her.

The gray beam of light made her vision tunnel as she came over the curve of the bridge. Kaidan waited opposite of her on the other side of the mist. He waited opposite of her on the other side of space and time. She was doing this for him and Avyn. It was justified. It was simply setting the timelines right again. How could anyone disapprove? She wasn’t responsible for this place. Her loyalty was to her family. Her own time. Fighting for them was respectable. Besides, had she not come on this timeline, the Shard wouldn’t be in Sol at all. It was hers. Earned. Justified. 

“Shepard?’ He had a concerned indent between his eyes as he watched her.

“I’m coming,” she said.

Her boots skated. Kaidan’s breath hitched in the comm. He had a glowing blue hand lifted, but she’d already stabilized herself on the narrow bridge.

“Ooh. Ha.” She tried to smile and waved off his tense readiness. “Getting too many frequent flyer miles with this carrier. Every damn time.”

“Saving them up for a big trip?”

Shepard pulled the Shard from her pocket.

“Yeah, I think so,” she whispered.

“What can I do to help?”

“I don’t need your help.” 

Shepard stretched her arm into the beam of mist. A damp, cloying sensation seeped through the joints of her armor. She flared. Enough biotic pressure while holding the Shard inside the beam, it would break. The Shard rattled in hand.

“If you didn’t need my help,” Kaidan said. “Why am I here?”

_ “I didn’t realize I was just a Spectre.”  _ Kaidan’s voice came from behind her.

“What?” Shepard boots slipped. She caught herself. Blood thrummed in her ears. “What did you say?”

“Why am I here?” Kaidan repeated.

_ “You did it alone? I said I’d help you.”  _

“Do you hear that?” Shepard shouted. The Shard trembled in her grip.

_ “I have all I want. The only thing I want and don’t have is for you to have the same thing . . . You can figure out what you’re missing . . . I don’t want it to be perfect. I just want you.” _

She heard her own voice, and her heart grew cold. 

_ “I don’t need told what to do and force-fed advice, Kaidan . . . I made decisions, good decisions, before there was ever a Kaidan standing over my shoulder telling me what to do . . . You don’t need to know everything I know. And what I do share, I”ll ask if I want advice.”  _

She shivered.

_ “You are weak,” _ her voice said.

_ “With you? Always. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” _

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kaidan called from across the beam of mist. “Just keep going. If you need me, I’m here. Make us proud.”

_ “I’m glad I make you . . . proud,”  _ she said.

_ “Well, you do.” _

Her hand dropped to her side. Kaidan wouldn’t be proud of this. She knew what he’d tell her, but for once, she wanted to take the easy way. Just once. The Shard quivered against her leg. She tried to breath. Condensation beaded her eyes. 

“Kaidan . . .” she whispered. She saw his brown eyes gleaming at her from across their bedroom that night. He would want her to come home, but not like this.

_ “You’re the deepest part of me.” He touched her face. _

He was the deepest part of her. __

“Shepard?”

Shepard bit her lip and refocused on him. “I do need your help.”

“You said . . .”

“Forget what I said. Forget everything I said. I need your help. I always have.”

Kaidan frowned, but Shepard didn’t wait for him to say anything. She raised the Shard into the beam of light. The light caught onto it like a weak magnet.

“What should I do?” Kaidan glowed blue.

“Help me fit this up into that point of light. With both of us lifting it, if it slips, there’s a safety net.”

Kaidan reached out. His energy rippled through her energy surrounding the Shard. The Shard lifted. An emptiness grew in her chest as they lifted it higher. She couldn’t think about that now. She swallowed it down. 

“Almost there,” Kaidan said. “This is a lot easier than removing a Shard.”

“The beam was meant to receive the Mass Effect Shard,” Shepard said in a lifeless voice. “It was never meant to be taken away.”

“It’s catching. I feel resistance.”

“Let it go. Slowly.”

Kaidan lowered his hand hesitantly to his side. Shepard did the same. The Shard floated above them in the beam, dark and still. The beam had brightened into a snowy white. Kaidan’s breath released in a loud rush into the comm.

“Shepard. You did it.”

“Better let the fleet know.” Shepard turned away. Her joints felt frozen, body far away, but she forced each step to take her further down the bridge. She heard the comm in her ear: the exchange with Command and Kaidan’s bright tone, but she couldn’t track the words. Kaidan hurried her out of the chamber, leaving the chasm, and the Shard behind. She followed him, but inside, she was left behind.

***

The Normandy wasn’t in any shape to follow the fleet through the relay. The first ship passed through the Sol relay into the Serpent Nebula in a flash of light. There was a massive cheer over the comm. On the other side of the relay was a massacre: nine ships lost and two disabled. The Alliance’s colossus dreadnaught, the Olympus, followed the first ship through the Sol relay. The other dreadnaughts followed suit.

Joker turned the comms onto the speaker overhead. The CIC fell silent with a hush. Engineers tearing apart charred circuit panels tilted their faces up to listen. The navigators gathered at the end of the gangway to hear. Reports came through from the Serpent Nebula.

“Told ya the Olympus could take that krogan dreadnought,” Joker said, sitting up higher in his chair. “Rode its ass right back home. Thing’s probably a hunk of junk, some krogan patchwork that flies.”

“That patchwork destroyed nine Alliance vessels.” Kaidan stood behind the pilot’s chair.

“Yeah? Now we get some payback,” Joker said. “Lemonade. Right, Adm-- I mean, Shepard?”

Shepard slouched against the wall behind the copilot. “Sure.”

“Expensive lemonade,” Kaidan said and moved over to Shepard. “You all right?”

Shepard nodded but kept her eyes on the floor. She didn’t want to look at him right now, didn’t want to hear his voice, didn’t want him to squeeze her arm again. She should be honored she’d been allowed through the CIC onto the bridge like this again, but it only tasted bitter on her tongue. The bitterness could also be the capsules Kaidan had forced on her the minute they arrived back on the shuttle. The trip had been filled with silence and Kaidan’s lingering eyes.

Kaidan put a hand on the wall next to her. “You should check in with Quigley.”

“I’m not sick anymore, Kaidan.” She held out a hand and spread her fingers. Steady. Steady and bare. It was her left hand. She shoved the hand back under her arm. Kaidan drifted back to the pilot’s seat.

Joker glanced between them. “What happened in there?”

“Just focus on your pilot duties,” Kaidan said. “Savor every second, ‘cause it’s going to be a while.”

Joker’s mouth thinned. He shot a glare back at Kaidan and slammed around in his seat.

“The krogan are retreating from the nebula,” Mark said.

Voices rose behind them in the CIC. It wasn’t cheering exactly. It was hardly a victory worth five hundred dead soldiers. The enemy had nearly destroyed their stranded fleets. Those ships had only been there to help the Normandy escape when the krogan shouldn’t have known to come after them in the first place.

Shepard turned down the gangway. She shuffled through the smiles and loud voices and pushed the elevator’s button. She had lost her way home.

***

She was first out the airlock. The Normandy docked at HQ with wartime announcements blaring overhead. She shoved through the crowd of uniforms spilling into the terminal around her. Joker had frowned at her from the cockpit and called her name when she passed, but she hadn’t stopped. She didn’t have quarters in the HQ building anymore. Whether she was still welcomed at Miranda’s flat on the Citadel was unknown. 

“Spectre Shepard,” a male voice greeted her.

She had wandered past the commons into an area with conferences rooms. She looked up at the approaching footsteps.

“Admiral Hackett.”

His uniform was rumpled, unusual for him, and his eyes were ruddy and tired.

“Long day?” Shepard asked.

“Long twenty-four hours. You and Alenko came through on this one.”

“And jump started the war apparently.”

Hackett folded his hands behind his back and sighed. “It was coming. After the Contender and Arcturus, it was only a matter of time before a true battle made the war real.”

Dripping pine boughs stirred behind the glass over Hackett’s shoulder. The door at the end of the hall led to the Alliance Memorial Gardens. 

“Admiral Cicero’s been declared Prime Minister of War, Spokesman for Parliament. With fleet admirals deployed on battlefield assignments, Parliament has formed a Wartime Committee.” Hackett eyed her guardedly. “Don’t let Alenko take the fall on this one. We need him in Parliament more than ever.”

“I’ll be there when he needs me. I take full responsibility. Now, if you excuse me.” She passed around him.

***

She found ‘Karin Chakwas’ among the bronze plaques. Name plaques decorated the rows of granite slabs which towered through the groomed lawn. There was ‘Ashley Williams.’ ‘David Anderson.’ Even Kaidan’s dad, who she’d never met, was there among the lost. The names hadn’t changed from her time. The split had happened at the Earth’s Summit, and the dead were still dead. There was nothing redeemable about this wretched place.

She slid down against the back of a stone monument. The light was dying, and the grass wet. The foggy sea air reminded her of home. Ocean crashed against the cliffs in the distance, while overhead, the stars and moon disappeared behind darkening rainclouds. 

Vancouver had become her favorite place in the galaxy, but in this timeline, it was dark and skeletal. It felt further away from Home by resembling it but not being it than some strange place. Grass rustle in the distance. Foot steps. She recognized his silhouette against the gray skies even before he spoke.

“Shepard?” Kaidan said.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Hackett.” He stopped a guarded distance away. He glanced around them. “This wouldn’t have been my first guess for a celebration. Not your usual type of place.”

“And what’s my usual type of place?” Shepard rolled her head back against the stone and looked up at him.

“A crowd. Music, lights, friends, alcohol. Some place you can’t hear yourself think.”

“A club, in other words?” Shepard settled her back against the stone and plucked at the grass by her leg. “Crowds and alcohol are doable. Not sure about the friends part.”

“You’ve never had trouble making friends. Drop into any nightclub, find an empty chair, and you’ll have five new friends before closing time.”

Shepard yanked the grass out harder and piled it by her knee. “I don’t want one-hour friends.”

Kaidan sighed and walked over to her. She moved her hand from the grass to prevent him stepping on it. He dropped next to her and put his back against the stone.

“That never bothered you before,” he said.

“Things change.” She focused on tearing the grass up with her other hand.

“What’s going on, Shepard?” He put his arms on his knees. “Is it the krogan? The war? I know you care about what will happen to them.”

Shepard tore a final clutch of grass from its roots then folded her hands in her lap. She tipped her head back and watched the faint blur of the moon hidden behind storm clouds.

“I don’t know if this place is more hell or nightmare,” she said.

Kaidan shifted next to her. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t belong here.” She rolled her head to the side and met his eyes. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Kaidan studied his hands. “You’ve done the wrong things. I did think the worst of you. But I also think you want to change.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t want to change.”

Kaidan frowned sideways at her. “You’re destroying yourself by taking a dark path. Look at what you’ve already lost. Now’s your chance to seek something better.”

“Look at what I’ve already lost,” Shepard echoed raspily. “You can’t see what I’ve lost. I can’t see what I’ve lost. Here, it doesn’t even exist. It’s lost to a place further from me than those names right there.” 

At least, those people had existed in this timeline. Avyn never was and never would be. 

“What are you talking about, Shepard?” 

Shepard met his eyes. In the low light, the gray clouds gave his bronze skin a pale radiance. Ghostly. His breath came out a misty plume between them.

“What?” he prompted. 

“I’m not Admiral Shepard.”

“What do you mean?” he said cautiously, shoulders tensing.

“I don’t know anything about the Contender. I never slept with Cicero. I didn’t do the things in that file.”

Kaidan’s rigid posture melted, and he sighed. “Shepard . . .” 

“I’m not in denial. What happened on Illium, I remember it now, but it wasn’t me.”

His jaw set. “You can’t disown your own actions as much as you--”

“This was my first time aboard the Normandy in years. Listen to me. I haven’t captained her for ten years. I’m not an Alliance admiral. I’m not even an Alliance soldier. Not anymore.” 

His eyes held a distant, hardened edge. Shepard twisted around and faced him. 

“It’s the reason why I took an Omni-blade in the back. Why I forgot to top off my Medigel. It’s how I know Amplify and the passcode for the krogan relay. How I knew to fly the shuttle. This isn’t my life. It hasn’t been for ten years.”

Kaidan rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “What are you talking about?”

Shepard looked him hard in the eye. “Kaidan. I’m not from this timeline.”

***

Shepard lifted her face out of the sand. A light wind smelled of rain, seasalt, and pine. Seagulls squawked overhead. She was lying on the ground, damp and covered in sand. A driftwood fence stood beside her with waves washing the shore in the distance. Mist curled through the hemlock and aspen to her left. A silver halo crested the purple mountain tops from a whitening sunrise. 

This wasn’t where she’d fallen asleep.

She’d been in Cicero’s bed in Vancouver surrounded by city lights and swirling skycar traffic. She’d fallen asleep with silky sheets stuck to her skin and the taste of bourbon on her tongue. Now waves crashed in her ears and damp air raised goosebumps up her arm. She’d been drinking before bed, but it hadn’t been excessive. She must have had more than she realized to end up here. Wherever here was.

Rushing footsteps drew her eyes up a long, sandy slope. A multistoried house with wrapping porches and off-white paint stood over the ocean. Someone was running down the sloping driftwood fence toward her. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Lean muscles. Familiar stride. Her heart shot into her throat. 

It was Kaidan Alenko.

**END OF PART 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part 1. I'll skip posting next week to give everyone a break and catch up with my editing on part 2. On Tumblr next weekend, I'll post the cover for part 2 and a little bit about what to expect. If anyone has anything they'd like to know about part 2 or beyond (minus obvious spoilers), send me an ask or message on Tumblr. Otherwise, I'll just give some general information with the cover release. My username on Tumblr is: [LJAndersen](https://ljandersen.tumblr.com) Thank you to everyone who read and made this experience exciting! I hope to see you back in part 2.


	19. The Truth (Part 2: Entwined)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **PART 2: Entwined**
> 
> Trapped in a brutal timeline, Shepard must do the impossible: steal part of a secret Mass Relay. As the renegade memories lock her in place, it’s a fight against time and the unknown. A needle in a haystack would be easier to find. To recover her life, will she risk the one person she loves most? The price of a last chance could be death.
> 
> Meanwhile, Renegade Shepard just woke to sunrise on the Pacific coast. She’s been called a lot of things -- Killer, Liar, Manipulator -- but never Mother, Wife, and Councilor. Everyone deserves a second chance. Will she use it to rise above or bring everything down in flames?

**CHAPTER 1: The Truth**

Kaidan was silent for the shuttle ride to the Citadel. He stared at the wall over her shoulder with a pensive frown. When he did look at her, his eyes held a guarded, intentional distance.

“You’re telling me the truth, Shepard?” He folded his arms.

She had told him in the Alliance Memorial Gardens that she was from a different timeline. She told him it involved an electrical storm and exposure to something in the mass relay. She hoped their mission with the Shard would send her home. It hadn’t. No reason to go into why quite yet. 

No reason to go into details at all. She hadn’t told him anything about her timeline other than that it existed. Ultimately, his relationship to her in another timeline was irrelevant. Declaring it would make their current situation awkward and uncomfortable. At worst, he’d be affronted, even outraged. He’d dismiss her whole claim out of incredulous disbelief and embittered suspicion. 

Shepard leaned back against the wall of the shuttle. “Either it’s true, or I’m crazy because I think it’s true. Either way, I’m not lying.”

“Liars lie about lying.”

“So, this is a set up? You’re just trying to figure out my angle?”

Kaidan didn’t answer and returned his eyes to studying the wall. The silence felt louder than the words. It was the middle of the night. Miranda hadn’t returned Shepard’s messages, but Shepard would hazard a guess she was at Cybernet Tower.

“Jacob,” Shepard greeted him at the tower’s door.

Jacob stood in front of the building’s glass sliders emblazoned with the Cybernet logo. The same opaque symbol blazed the soaring windows overhead.

“Shepard, I got your message,” Jacob said. At least, someone had then. “No Alliance inside.”

“Jacob.” Shepard gave a tired sigh. “I was here a couple of weeks ago. Get out of my way.”

“It’s not you.” Jacob’s eyes slid away from her. “Him. Sorry, Alenko. No members of Parliament.”

Kaidan stood placidly a step behind her and didn’t respond. 

“We want to see Miranda,” Shepard said. “She’s up in the Ivory Tower?”

“I think you need to go through private channels,” Jacob said. “I’m head of security. I’m not letting you in.”

“Is she awake? Has she even gotten my message? It’s not doing either of good to be arguing if she’s face-down snoring on her desk with her Omni-Tool blinking. If this is her trying to deflect me, then you should just say so. I’m not a patient person, so I’ve been told, but I am a tenacious one. I can wait here all day.”

“But, he won’t.” Jacob nodded past her at Kaidan.

“No, I won’t,” Kaidan agreed.

Jacob checked something on his Omni-Tool. “I’ll check with her. If she wants to see you, fine. I’m advising her not to allow you inside. You’ll have to meet somewhere off property.”

“Fine.” Shepard spun away. “We’ll be at her apartment. Unless she’s changed it, I still have access.”

“Taylor.” Kaidan nodded.

“Alenko.”

Miranda’s apartment wasn’t far. The access code hadn’t been changed. As Shepard expected, Miranda wasn’t at home. Shepard’s things had been neatly collected into a corner of the living room and boxed. Shepard flopped on the stiff white couch.

“How long is this going to take?” Kaidan wandered along the wall and stared at the expanse of space below his feet.

“Hopefully, not long. You have somewhere to be?”

“In a few hours, yeah. Got a solitary chair under a bright light facing Parliament.”

“Right.” Shepard pulled up the calendar on her Omni-Tool and set an alarm. “I meet with them in the afternoon.”

“You almost forgot?” Kaidan said darkly.

“I’ll be there. Hacket talked to me earlier. The war was expected. You’ll be fine.” 

Shepard fluffed a throw pillow, fit it in the couch’s corner, and settled back. The couch and its throw pillows had an ungiving quality. The whole apartment was that way, stylish and functional, but not comfortable. It was something you enjoyed in passing, not staying. Kaidan rubbed his jaw absently and gazed through the window at Earth.

“You disagree?” Shepard asked.

“Cicero’s installed himself as Prime Minister of War under the Alliance war bylaws. I don’t know what it will mean.”

“Why does he hate you so much?” Shepard studied Kaidan. Cicero had told her why he hated Kaidan, but she was curious if Kaidan had any insight himself.

Kaidan shrugged and slouched against the wall. “I stand up to him when the others don’t.”

“As simple as that?”

“No, but that’s the heart of it. If I didn’t push back on him, none of the rest of it would matter. Or not as much anyway.”

“Then why push back?”

“He doesn’t want what’s best for the Alliance or humanity. He wants what’s best for himself. He’ll hurt others to get it.”

“That black and white?” Shepard put her arms behind her head. “He probably thinks what he does is for humanity and the Alliance. His idea of what’s best just happens to be wrong.”

Kaidan folded his arms and scooted up taller against the wall. “That’s why you’re with him? You share the same philosophy of matter over means?”

“I’m not with him.”

“I was standing there in the QEC, Shepard.”

“That?” Shepard waved her hand dismissively. “Had to find something to throw back at him. I knew it was true from before, but that wasn’t me.”

“Or you wish it hadn’t been you.”

Kaidan’s suddenly hard expression made Shepard grin slyly.

“Ah, all right then. I see.” She sat up and dropped her feet onto the floor. “That’s what you’ve decided? My timeline hoax is a chance to wipe the slate clean? I’ve seen the error of my ways but am so overwhelmed and tied down by the enormity of it, I’ve come up with this elaborate story. If only I can get you to accept it and see me as a good person, I can finally believe it of myself.”

Kaidan shifted against the wall. “A little deeper into the psychology than I went, but essentially, sure.”

“I suppose when Miranda finally corroborates me, she’s just part of the conspiracy? What is she getting out of it?”

“Miranda’s ethics have always been questionable.”

“You have different values. It doesn’t mean she’s immoral.”

“Valuing money and power over people is immoral.”

“Only if it hurts the people.”

“Not helping someone who needs it, may not be hurting them, but it sure as hell isn’t much better.”

“If it doesn’t affect people at all then.”

“Money and power are taken. Someone’s always affected.”

“Sometimes it’s given. Earned.”

“It’s only deservedly earned by valuing something real.”

“Kaidan.” Shepard laughed. “Be realistic. How many--”

The front door slid open. Shepard swung around in her seat. Miranda had a tired, sullen look and hands on her hips when she came through the door.

“Jacob gave me your summons,” Miranda said crisply. Her eyes shifted from Shepard’s face to Kaidan. “Fleet Admiral Kaidan Alenko. In my apartment. I have you to thank for that, Shepard?”

“Hi, Miranda.” Kaidan strolled over to her. “It’s been a while.”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“I see you haven’t changed.”

“You’ve gotten grayer.”

“Yeah? Tell me your color, I’ll pick myself up a bottle.”

Miranda’s lips spread into a feral smirk. “I have top-grade software security guarding Cybernet’s proprietary secrets on my terminals. When you get ‘lost’ on your way to the bathroom, snooping will take longer than you think.”

Kaidan folded his arms and shrugged. “I’ll take the hardware then. Only a few bolts between me and the hard drive. I can definitely fit it in during a bathroom break.”

“And you think I wouldn’t notice?” Miranda tapped her fingertips on her hips.

“Not unless you’re planning on patting me down.”

“In your dreams.”

“The bad ones.”

Miranda’s tongue flicked between her teeth, and the smirk indented deeper into her cheeks. She sized Kaidan up and down before turning into the kitchen. “I’ll leave that to Shepard. She has fifteen years of practice.”

“Patting people down?” Kaidan frowned.

Shepard shot her a sharp frown, but Miranda wasn’t paying attention. The fridge opened with a smack. She dug around inside, glass clinking, and bottles rolling.

“Actually got stuff in there now?” Shepard raised on her knees to see over the back of the couch.

Miranda pulled out a wine bottle and tapped it on the counter. “Hid it in the pantry. Didn’t want you drunk dialing me at work sobbing about Kansas.”

Kaidan stepped up to the island counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“You’re going to tell me this is true then?” Kaidan asked her. “Shepard’s skipped over from another dimension.”

Miranda clinked around in a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew. “I suppose that’s why she dragged you here. I’m her proof. I will convince you she’s not crazy, just terribly maligned and pitifully displaced.”

“Miranda.” Shepard sighed and hurtled over the back of the couch. She came up to the counter beside Kaidan. “Tell him what you believe. Whatever you really think, tell him.”

Miranda pulled the corkscrew out of the bottle with a pop. “I suppose I’m to be thrilled you restored the relay rather than selfishly teleporting yourself home? Or did something go wrong?”

“What?” Kaidan’s eyes cut to Shepard. 

Shepard clenched her jaw against the first words sharpening on her tongue. She needed Kaidan to accept she was from another timeline. Then she could get into the business with the Shard. He may be able to help. Miranda was ignoring any delicacy. She barely spared Shepard a glance, despite Shepard’s pointed glare. 

Miranda found a wine glass and dribbled red wine into it. “Yes, I received your message. So selfless of you, Shepard. If I had both hands free, I’d clap in ovation.”

“What’s she talking about?” Kaidan turned to Shepard.

“He really doesn’t know?” Miranda asked.

Shepard gripped the rim of the island counter. “Do you have to be a bitch to me every time I see you?”

Miranda’s smirk was tired and dismissive. “Wine, Shepard? You could use some loosening up.” She held the glass out to Shepard, but her hand wavered with it. Miranda’s eyes slid to Kaidan and back to Shepard. “Unless you want to loosen up other ways. In which case . . .” Miranda held the glass out to Kaidan. “Drink up.”

Kaidan pushed her hand away roughly, enough the wine slopped over the rim.

“What the hell’s that mean?” Kaidan snapped.

“Testy.” Miranda tisked her tongue and took a long swallow. Red tinted her smile when she lowered the glass from her lips. “Fine, we can get down to business. This thing with Shepard--”

“No,” Kaidan said with some heat. “What did you mean? Offering me wine and the look you gave her?”

Miranda’s haughty smile dropped. She licked her lips. “Sorry. I assumed it had been long enough that--”

“How do you know about it?” Kaidan’s voice boomed.

Miranda’s fingers tighten on the glass, but she didn’t look away from him. “Shepard told me. Said you got drunk sharing wine and nearly had sex with her, except you go cold feet.”

“That’s not what happened.” He turned his glare, like a blowtorch, onto Shepard. He backed away and started for the door. Miranda’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Alenko!” Miranda called and slapped her drink down on the counter. “That wasn’t this Shepard.”

Kaidan smashed the door’s exit button.

“The person here didn’t do that to you.” Miranda attempted to stroll but had to break into a run to catch him. She grabbed his elbow before he disappeared through the door. “She’s not the one who did that or who told me. Sorry. I actually am. And I don’t say that to anyone.”

Kaidan looked sharply over his shoulder at Shepard. His eyes scorched the air between them, measuring and weighing her. He looked back at Miranda.

“I don’t care. I’m not getting caught up in your scheme. Or yours.” He glared at Shepard again. With one firm move, he pushed Miranda’s hand off his arm and disappeared down the hall.

“Dammit, Miranda,” Shepard hissed.

The door slid shut. Miranda pivoted to face Shepard with a pinched expression.

“Overreaction, I think. What are you doing with him anyway?” Miranda said. “Unable to return to your old life, so you plan to create it again here?”

Shepard slammed a chair into the counter and out of her way. She charged up to Miranda.

“You treat me like I mean nothing to you. Jacob hates me. James is scared of me. What other friend I may have in this galaxy, I have no idea. I’ve apparently fallen out of contact with anyone who sees me as a friend. Kaidan despises me. Only, I thought maybe I could change that. I have no one, and I need a friend. Not only are you not it, but you drove off the only one I thought I might have.” Shepard elbowed past her to the door.

“Leave? Where are you going to go, Shepard?” Miranda raised an eyebrow.

“A cardboard box under a bridge will be more hospitable than what you offer.”

Shepard couldn’t leave Miranda’s door fast enough.

***

HQ was bursting with war planning. Returning ships were still coming in from the Serpent Nebula. The halls were clogged with shouting, running, and screens flashing with images from the battle. Battle of the Nebula. The Alliance was already touting the victory. They had only met part of the krogan fleet. If Shepard believed Wrex, which she did, then there was more to come.

Now, here she was in another Alliance courtroom with the afternoon sun hanging in the windows. It was a small, claustrophobic chamber with dark wood walls that felt like a coffin. A subset of Parliament looked on while the inquest leader questioned her. Kaidan hadn’t been far off describing the questioning stand as a solitary chair under a bright light. She sat in a chair in the center of the room with Admirals looking down on her on one side and Kaidan on the other. He sat at a table facing Parliament. He’d already given his testimony earlier.

“You’re saying you contacted Urdont Wrex yourself, independent of Admiral Alenko’s knowledge?” the inquest leader asked, a skeletal-looking woman with spidey-legged eyelashes.

Hackett stared at her pointedly from among the huddle of Alliance uniforms. Cicero’s stare was more pointed. It felt like being held against the wall with a knife. He gripped the arms of his chair, a steely whiteness bleaching in his knuckles, and his eyes unblinking. A chill ran up the back of her neck. She tried to ignore him.

“That’s correct.” Shepard refolded her legs and shifted in her chair. She chanced a glance in Kaidan’s direction, but he looked away.

“Taking blame won’t look good for your Spectre status hearing,” the examiner said. “Are you sure you alone are responsible?”

“How it looks doesn’t matter, does it?” Shepard refocused on her. “Only the truth matters. And that’s the truth. I am responsible.”

“You risked the mission and endangered retrieving the Shard.”

“The Shard mattered more to me than anything.” 

Shepard let her gaze drift to Kaidan. He reluctantly met her eyes. 

“Everything depended on the Shard,” she said. “There was no going home without it.”

“And, despite inciting a war, you still consider it a success?”

“Success for the Alliance. For the Sol System. For millions of lives.” Shepard kept her gaze straight at Kaidan. “It could have shattered. But it didn’t. I knew how many lives depended on it. Whatever barriers there were to the primary mission objective succeeding, I overcame. The Shard now powers the Sol Relay. I still consider it a success, but it wasn’t without a drawback.” 

“Starting a war?” the woman scoffed. “Drawback is an understatement.” 

“Started a war?” Hackett shifted restlessly in his chair. “The krogan have dreadnaughts. An armada. Trained soldiers able to mobilize within hours. This conflict was inevitable. Admiral Alenko’s testimony indicates the krogan were already aware of the Normandy’s presence in krogan space. They were waiting at the dormant relay.”

“Conjecture,” Cicero said tiredly. “This is for the examiner to explore, Admiral. Discussion is held until later.”

Hackett rested back in his chair with a frown. His eyes went to Kaidan. Kaidan gave him the slightest tip of his head, and Hackett shrugged wearily.

“Continue,” Cicero urged the inquest examiner.

Shepard avoided meeting Cicero’s icy stare and gave the examiner a flowery smile. The examiner consulted a datapad in her hand.

She looked up at Shepard. “You informed Admiral Alenko of the meeting you’d arranged ‘independently.’ He then supported it?”

“No, he did not support it. He disapproved strongly.” 

Shepard sat higher in her chair and continued with the questions. It was a long ninety minutes. When she was finally dismissed, she was met with camera bots and microphones in the hallway. The conference room was adjacent to the public area, and the reporters clearly thought it worth the few meters of trespassing to catch her. 

“Ms. Shepard! Ms. Shepard! Any comment on the documents that have been released?”

“Is it likely if you lose Spectre status, that you will be prosecuted for those crimes? Compounded with your conviction for--”

“Please tell us, Spectre, will you be called to testify against your crew?”

“Commander Tautum, your previous XO, is already undergoing court martial. Is it true--”

“Listen up!” Shepard’s voice clapped. She shoved the reporters back a step and jumped onto a bench sitting against the wall. A head taller than everyone, she looked down on the wide eyes and gawking expressions. “I said listen up! You back there. Quiet. You have ten seconds, and I’m gone.”

An Alliance corporal popped his head out of the conference room. He seemed ready to bark at whoever was creating the commotion. He gawked at the silent reporters, a restless but hushed sea of lifting microphones.

“Reporters are restricted to public areas,” he said to Shepard.

Still standing on the bench, Shepard nodded. “I’ve got it.”

The corporal gave her a grudging nod and drew back into the conference room.

“See there, you’re not helping yourself with all the shoving and shouting.” Shepard straightened her jacket. “All right. No, I’m not taking questions. This is a statement. Anyone doesn’t like it, then scram. I have better things to do. All right? All right.”

It was actually fortuitous to find the media waiting for her rather than needing to seek them out. Since Akuze, she had dodged camera flashes and bounced off crowding reporters like being caught in a pinball machine. Since Saren, it had risen to a whole other level. Since being Councilor, it had raised over her head, enough to drown her. Kaidan’s fingers would touch her wrist. The slight shake of his head had saved more than a few reporters a lashing from her forked tongue. Her tactics on the battlefront and in the war room were the same that let her dodge political minefields and breach seemingly impregnable negotiations. 

Finally, she’d turned the same tactic to the cameras. At war, she turned the tides of battle through doing the unexpected. She harnessed her enemy’s strengths as her own. Her tactics worked. When the shadow of reporters descended on them, she met them head on with a smile and eye to the landscape. 

Eight years later, she could honestly say few decisions reaped as much benefit as turning the media to her side. She gave to them attention and respect when other VIPs treated them like carrion animals. While the media dogged her, she allowed it, welcomed it. She gave them what they wanted with open permission. 

If she was picnicking with Kaidan and Avyn in the park and caught them, she’d invite them nearer. She set them up a small distance away and kept the picnicking in their view of their lens. She’d even give them a short explanation of the outing to use in their story. She learned their names, asked after their families, spent time among them, chatted about normal things. She even had drinks sent to them when they watched her outside restaurants. 

While Kaidan glowered at her openness to intrusion, Shepard knew when the time came to say “no” they would listen. They feared losing her inclusion in future stories, but also, betraying her had the unsavory flavor of betraying a friend. Leaving the hospital after one of Avyn’s surgeries, she need only lift her palm and say “go.” They clicked off their cameras, apologized, deleted footage, even sent her cards with encouragement. When Tevos’s sister died, the media invested in long-range lenses to catch her weeping at the memorial. When Sparatus had a rather scandalous tryst with a married member of the hierarchy, the media put it on every cover. Sparatus was the last to know. 

While Kaidan may not agree -- he either dodged them or spoke with an official and distant attitude -- in the end, her tactics had won the war, at least, locally in Vancouver and the Citadel. Here, though, she had nothing. She recognized some of them, but it would be amiss to act too warm under the circumstances. She wasn’t the respected human Councilor here. She was scandal and corruption, a juicy gossip piece, a train wreck, nothing to revere or gain from by holding boundaries. 

“Okay,” Shepard said to the upturned faces. “These documents . . .”

***

The Spectre offices at HQ were the only place Shepard had to go. She had breezed through this area weeks ago looking for Kaidan but hadn’t stopped to look around. The long enclosed hallway of Spectre offices was deserted. The first year after the war when all the aliens were stranded on Earth, these offices had been bursting with Spectres of different races. The last room had been packed with Kaidan’s equipment, but his stuff wasn’t here now.

In the real world -- her timeline -- these offices had been repurposed for Alliance recruitment meeting rooms. Spectre officers were available on the Citadel. This timeline was so damn backwards though. The Councilors met by vid calls from separate corners of the galaxy. The Human Systems Alliance was on its way to becoming the galaxy’s uncontested superpower.

The offices felt dusty and stale. All the fish were dead in a tank in the backroom. It was the only room with furniture. Armor was piled in the corner with a N7 on the breastplate. A 3-D hologram of the Normandy glowed on the corner of the desk. File cabinets overflowed with pistols, thermal clips, sites, silencers, expired tubes of medigel, and a half-repaired Omni-blade. The dead fish smelled awful, bobbing and bloated in a scummy tank against the wall. The single window in the office was dim with setting sunlight. 

She flicked on the desk’s terminal, but she didn’t know her own access code. It took several tries. She needed to find another dormant relay. That simple. That’s how she would get home. Her memories weren’t caught up to current day. She still had time to find a way home. Her heart beat in her ears. It was an easy thing to say, but a hard goal to actually reach. 

Humanity and the Council didn’t know of any dormant relays. None of her friends, if they were still friends, were high up enough in their species’ government to know that level of information. An extranet search showed Garrus to be MIA in Palavan politics. Tali had apparently dedicated herself to a private life on Rannoch. It wasn’t promising, but there was contact information for Tali. Shepard sent her an email. It was a basic “how are things” with an oblique hint of needing a favor. The only remaining help she could hope for would be from Wrex. There was another relay in Tuchanka space, she knew it, but she also knew Wrex didn’t know it’s location. He only knew it existed. He’d hinted as much to her in her timeline, and if the knowledge was lost eons ago, then it held true in this timeline too.

Shepard rotated in her chair and gazed around the room. She really had put a fish tank in here. A grim smile curved her lips. Kaidan had joked as much once. And here it was. Fish floated in the hazy green water, and she had to look away. Like her medication, what she didn’t know about she couldn’t take care of. They were long dead. Her medication required a talk with Miranda, if she could bear seeing her again.

Medals hung on the wall, some of them she had never seen before. She had finally found the Laurel, which the Council had awarded her at Earth’s Summit for her valor on the Crucible. It was stuffed in the back of a desk drawer, dusty and chipped. The glass cover was cracked like she’d thrown it or stepped on it. 

Shepard cleaned the glass off and put it on the desk. Her reflection stared back at her. Perhaps this Shepard was still ashamed of what happened on the Crucible, the choice, and what happened to the geth. Kaidan had changed her mind on it. She carried his words with her. When it was dark and quiet and the shadows of memories started to choke her, she’d remember: Kaidan believed she was right. She didn’t need his approval, but if such a good person, an ethical person, someone who valued life and doing the right thing at all costs, if such a person believed in her decision . . . Shepard’s fingers trailed along the spiderwebbed crack in the glass. Perhaps those words had never been spoken to her in this timeline. The shadows collecting over her in the darkness choked her without anything to hold them back.

The other Shepard’s gun collection was impressive. The armor was expensive, The catalog of available mods wanted for nothing. Despite the overflowing file cabinets and boxes of equipment, there was nothing personal here. Like her barracks and her cabin on the Normandy, this place felt hollow. 

More than what was here, it was the lack of what could have been here that spoke loudest. No pictures of loved ones or sentimental nicknacks. No emails or old voice messages saved on the terminal to remember. On the wall should be Avyn’s watercolor of dolphins, barely recognizable as an attempt at the concrete. In this life, her desk drawers had expired batteries, cracked datapads, and off-brand gun clips instead of scrawled sticky note messages left in Kaidan’s hand. He’d leave a note saying he stopped by her office and missed seeing her. Hardly love letters, but she kept them. Each one could be the last one if a mission went wrong. She couldn’t let his last words to her be lost forever to a shred bin. So she put it in her desk drawer with all the rest. 

Now, she wondered if she shouldn’t have been the one leaving him love notes on his Spectre desk. Then again, she’d probably make it too racey and earn him some blush-worthy nickname among the other Spectres.  _ “Anything for the Biotic Hammer,” Ursul would say while casually handing him a file. Blood would drain from Kaidan’s face. “There’s another note on my desk, isn’t there?” _

She would sleep here, Shepard decided. Until she figured out her course of action, this was the only place she actually belonged. She checked her Omni-Tool messages. She’d given her testimony to Parliament hours ago. Kaidan had been sure her taking ownership of contacting the krogan would sign her Spectre termination papers when the Council reconvened. Maybe it still would, but she’d told Parliament everything. Cicero’s face had become stonier as the questions went along, his fingers clawing into his armrest the more she took credit for the fiasco. If Cicero hoped to pin Kaidan with the disaster, her confession hadn’t helped him. 

Whatever the Council decided about her when they reconvened, even if they stripped her Spectre status and immunity, she didn’t care. The incriminating documents Cicero had released, the Contender incident, and now her confession about stirring up krogan space -- as a conglomerate, it wouldn’t sit well with the Council. In the end, it didn’t matter. If there wasn’t another dormant Shard, if the memories did catch up, then she didn’t give a damn whether she weathered the next few decades in a prison cell or on a beach. It would be Hell either way. She slouched back in chair and rested her eyes. Slowly, the tension left her muscles.

***

_ Shepard stormed through the dimly lit halls of Orian Station. The low ceiling and tight metal walls constricted around her like following a serpent into its burrow. She’d only been here a handful of times. Just knowing  _ they _ lived here made her skin crawl. Enough was enough though. _

_ She nodded her head at the security guards patrolling in the opposite direction. The top-level officer barracks, apparently, deserved on-duty monitoring. Shepard spied the door she wanted at the end of the hallway. She only knew it in theory. She’d found it easily enough in the encrypted personnel demographics. Her hacking skills left something to be desired, but Private Orrele’s hadn’t. He knew when to keep things close to the chest. All of her crew did.  _

_ She stopped at the door. Kaidan had left the station a week ago. She’d checked the traffic logs and contacted his office to confirm it. There was something in Alliance Mission Updates about a batarian crime insurgence crackdown in Sigurd’s Cradle. No doubt there was a connection. Kaidan liked to get his hands dirty after all. Shepard pushed the door bell. _

_ It took long enough, Shepard pushed two more times. It hadn’t occurred to her that Liara may not answer. Where else could she be if not here? She’d left her broker position in Illium. She probably spent all day in high-heels and an apron, baking pies and turkeys, waiting for her bread-winner to arrive home for dinner. Just as Shepard was starting to pivot and think of a Plan B, the door slid open. _

_ Liara had a glazed expression, and her hooded eyes widened on seeing Shepard. It was the only reaction. She looked sickly. Her shoulders slumped forward like her chest was collapsing, a fragile bird-like posture. _

_ “Liara,” Shepard said briskly in greeting. It didn’t seem like Liara was going to say anything, so Shepard spoke again. “You want to do this in the hallway or behind a closed door? You decide.” _

_ The haze thickened in Liara’s deep blue eyes. She twisted her hands in a knot at her waist, but stepped back from the doorway. Shepard burst past her with the invitation. _

_ Ah, a station barracks apartment: cold metal walls holding a puff of recycled air and some sterile, assembly-line furniture. At least, that was what she expected coming into the living space. The warm smell of cinnamon hit her. The furniture assigned to the quarters had been replaced with white wicker in a set, sea-foam-colored throw pillows, and gossamer curtains. Shepard’s boots softened on a beige-colored area rug that looked like it was made of cotton balls. Shelves on the wall displayed Prothean artefacts, beach-side nicknacks, and smiling pictures of humans and asari Shepard didn’t know. The polished aesthetic was desperately . . . er, “homey.” _

_ “Didn’t know I was coming, I take it? You seem surprised.” Shepard twisted back to Liara. Liara stood by the still-open doorway, staring at the floor, and twisting something in her fingers -- white -- a tissue. “I thought the Shadow Broker was always a step ahead. You could have had some goons intercept me.” _

_ “No one . . .” Liara’s voice trailed off. She twisted the tissue harder. “I’m officially retired as a regular information broker. No one knows anything else.” _

_ “So, that answers that. You’re still pulling the shadow strings. Just working from home now? You may want to close the door for the next thing I have to say.” A picture on the wall caught Shepard eyes: white dress with crystals and tulle; lavender skies; Kaidan beaming like he’d eaten sunshine. “Sorry, I didn’t make the wedding.” She wasn’t. _

_ Liara fumbled for the door’s button, not getting it on the first try. Shepard frowned, but waited for the door to shut before speaking. _

_ “Nos Astra, back alley behind the Goblet.” Shepard folded her arms. “Mean anything to you?” _

_ Liara bowed her face lower to the floor. _

_ “Well, it means something to me,” Shepard said. “If I hadn’t heard the thermal clip engage--” _

_ “Thermal clip?” Liara raised her eyes. “A weapon?” _

_ “Uh huh.” Shepard strolled up to her. “Problem with mercs, I guess. They take it too far. They weren’t aiming to wound either.” _

_ Liara’s mouth crinkled into a rose bud. “They tried to kill you?” _

_ Shepard tossed a generic-looking Omni-Tool onto the glass top of their wicker dining table. “I might not be able to crack a merc’s protected contact list, but I have a lot of resources who can. I don’t think I have to tell you what I found, Shadow Broker.” _

_ Liara crumpled in on herself, head bowing, and put a hand on her forehead. She didn’t respond. _

_ “My barracks at headquarters were tossed last month,” Shepard continued. “Strange how, if it was just some random sandshaker, they managed to break all the way into HQ just to go through my underwear. Security footage was mysteriously scrubbed.” _

_ Liara shook her head. Her breath hitching. _

_ “At least, you seem repentant,” Shepard decided. “Who’d you buy on my crew? I know someone sorted through my cabin on the Normandy too. No knifed-open cushions destuffed or shattered furniture. It was a good hire. Appreciate that.” _

_ Liara sucked in a wet-sounding breath. Shepard had expected a defensive backlash of innocent, wide-eyed denials, not this. Shepard snapped a datachip out of her Omni-Tool and held it up between her fingers. The Alliance symbol stood out on the black casing. _

_ “This is what’s worth my life? The files I took from you on Illium. Does Kaidan know?” _

_ Liara pressed the balled tissue to her mouth and shuddered. Shepard’s heart skipped. She snapped the datachip back into her Omni-Tool. Something was off. _

_ Shepard took a step toward her. “What’s going on, Liara?” _

_ “I . . . I . . .” Her voice cracked, rhythm starting and stopping, hiccuping with each wet breath. Tears glittered as they ran down her cheeks. “I came back from . . .” _

_ “What?” Shepard pressed. _

_ “I came back from a comm conference with Alliance Command.” _

_ Shepard’s stomach twisted. “Why?” _

_ Liara’s eyes squeezed shut. A sob broke through her lips. Shepard clutched the wall, her legs starting to shake. _

_ “Liara? Liara, tell me.” Shepard’s voice warbled. “Please. It isn’t . . . Tell me it’s not that.” _

_ Shepard’s Omni-Tool pinged with a new message. The message light blinked red, high priority from Alliance Command. It rammed into Shepard’s chest like a knife. Her fingers shook as she punched up the message. It opened. The words blurred together, and her eyes frantically searched line by line. Her body froze. She cut off mid-breath. Cold crept from her extremities to her heart. A gunshot to the chest wouldn’t have fazed her. “Admiral Kaidan Alenko” seared into the back of her eyes. _

_ “How could he . . .” Shepard mumbled, eyes filling up. “What happened? It’s a mistake.” _

_ Liara only sobbed louder. _

_ “Killed in the line of duty? The whole ship?” _

_ All the narrow escapes he’d survived. Two shipwrecks and still he still came home. Was a third too much to ask Fate? _

_ “He had to have evacuated in an escape pod.” Shepard’s words rushed over each other. The room spun around her. “There was a nearby planet. They just need to look for it. How can there be no survivors?” _

_ “The drive core exploded.” Liara’s whole face was wet. “One direct hit after another. The ship was late era design. There wasn’t time to evacuate.” _

_ “Then he wasn’t even aboard. Got off.” _

_ “I . . .” Liara clenched her jaw a moment then pushed through. “I spoke to him hours before they say it . . . He was aboard.” _

_ “He got off after you talked to him but before . . .” _

_ “Deep space. The Lomond pursued Tulk Kulenk’s ship into deep space. It was an ambush.” _

_ “We need to search for him. I need to go. Now.” _

_ “Shepard.” Liara reached for her sleeve. “Stay with me.” _

_ “I have to go.” Shepard shoved Liara’s hand away and tumbled into the hallway. _

_ Her teether to reality was frayed to a single thread of hope. He was alive. He had to be. That couldn’t have been their good bye: spiteful words and betrayal. He died hating her. Shepard cried into her palm and broke into a run toward the Normandy. _

_ *** _

Shepard woke with a start. She was still in the Spectre office at HQ. Her shirt stuck to the sweaty skin of her back. Her heart pounded. She focused on the dark window in front of her and tried to reorient. That was only a memory, not the here and now.

“Bad dream?” Kaidan’s voice made her jump.

She spun her chair around. Kaidan leaned sideways against the office doorframe. 

“How long have you been there?”

“Not long enough to be creepy.”

Shepard rubbed her face with both hands to will away the sleepy images. She slouched back in her chair.

“What’s the timeframe for creepiness?” she asked.

Kaidan gave a limp shrug. “Sneak into someone’s bedroom and watch him sleep, and there isn’t one.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes at him, but let a smile spread on her lips. He was talking about the Normandy when he was down with a migraine. Snarky as ever. 

He was in a fresh uniform and smelled clean. His soap tainted the air, the same kind he always used, and his biotics tingled vaguely on the edge of her senses. She wasn’t the most sensitive to biotic signatures. Even now, the most familiar biotic energy other than her own, and she struggled to sense it. Once she did, it felt like listening to his heart beat. Alive and safe.

“You came here to find me?” Shepard rested her head back on the chair’s headrest.

“It wasn’t to feed the fish.” Kaidan’s eyes shifted to the green fish tank.

“I didn’t know they were here.” 

“Yet they keep selling them to you. Need to circulate your picture around the pet stores.”

“The Notorious Serial Fish Slayer.”

“Both a serial  _ and _ mass murderer.”

“Fish authorities have been looking for me for years.”

Kaidan rested his temple against the doorframe and studied her. “You really didn’t know they were here, huh?”

Shepard twisted her creaky chair back and forth and held his gaze. “No. No, I didn’t.”

Kaidan sighed and stood away from the door frame. “Look, Shepard. I appreciate what you said at my hearing earlier, and I saw you take responsibility for those leaked documents on the news. If you lose your Spectre status, this is going to come down hard on you. Tuchanka and your shady antics in the documents won’t look good, especially together.”

“I don’t know much about the documents. Based on what I’ve heard, I gather I -- Admiral Shepard -- did do them. That’s why I took credit. I don’t want the crew or Tautum taking the fall.”

“No one’s shackled, except Tautum. If not for expedited justice in the face of the war, I doubt Parliament would be as generous with their wrist-slapping. The blame you took in front of the media will help the crew in their sentencing.”

“Good. As for the rest of what I took credit for, I -- the real me -- did derail our mission to Tuchanka. I’ll take responsibility for the fall out with that too.”

“Because you think you’ll find your way home before the debt collectors show?”

“Maybe I can be forgiven in light of something good. I’m still hoping peace talks can work out between Wrex and the Council.”

“The krogan aren’t at war with the Council. Yet.”

“Wrex will talk to the Council and the Alliance then. A menage a trois of peace.”

“Not sure the Alliance will go for it. Our new Prime Minister of War and a good part of Parliament have their eyes aglow over with what it means if we win. When we win. But they don’t know what they’re up against.”

“I suppose this lets Cicero dig his claws deeper into his position in Sol.”

“No major transfers or restructuring during a war.” Kaidan walked the grimy fish-tank mortuary with a sickened grimace, then refocused on her. “You’re counting on your peace talk victory to save your role as Spectre with the Council?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Shepard sat forward and folded her hands between her knees. “But you’re right, I’d rather not be around for the decision.”

Kaidan’s smile had a harsh edge. “So you transport back to your other life somehow. Your other life where you’re not a bad person?”

“Do you think the Shepard before me was a bad person?”

“Yes.” Kaidan settled his back against the wall. “Doesn’t mean I think you’re irredeemable.” 

“Well, that wasn’t me.” Shepard swallowed the lump in her throat. “Anyway, it’s a little more complicated than just pulling a cord to get off at the next stop. I need a Mass Effect Shard, but essentially, yes, that’s my plan. I transport back to my old life using another Shard.”

“Ah.” Kaidan’s face hardened. “Then that  _ is  _ what you were trying to tell me during the trial. You wanted the Shard for yourself.” 

“I needed it to shatter. Needed the particles. It’s . . . If you would have stayed instead of storming off, Miranda could have explained it.”

“No doubt.” He waved at the galaxy map above her desk. Mass relays blinked with progress bars showing their reconstruction status. The relay connections were highlighted. “So, you’re figure out which system you’re going to sabotage? Which species or colony you’ll hobble by attacking their relay?”

“It can’t be an active relay. The Shard has to be black. Untainted.”

That seemed to surprise him. “You’re not planning on inactivating a relay?”

“Sol’s the only active relay with an untainted Shard, and I already made that choice.”

Kaidan studied her with a knit brow. “You didn’t go through with using the Shard. Breaking it or whatever. Why?”

“I couldn’t.” Shepard stood from her chair. “The Alliance was getting torn apart in the Nebula. I didn’t want you or Miranda or anyone else in Sol to be stranded.”

“All your ‘just in case’ talk before we retrieved it near Tuchanka . . . You planned to destroy it all along?”

“I was hoping the fractured Shard would still be intact in the Sol Relay. I could shatter it instead of the replacement. When it wasn’t . . . I was going to make it look like it shattered on accident.”

“But you suddenly changed your mind?”

“Thought I might disappoint somebody. Somebody from home.” Shepard blinked at her lone, small reflection in the dark window. “Realized I was disappointing myself.”

Silence hung between them. At last, he spoke.

“You’re saying you had to choose between going home and saving Sol?” Kaidan’s voice was skeptical, but his expression was soft.

“I didn’t want to return my Savior of the Galaxy sash,” Shepard said lightly.

“Only saving a star system after saving the whole galaxy? It is a bit underwhelming.”

“Say it to the mirror, Alenko.”

Kaidan’s lips twitched into a grin. “You’re always the headliner. I’m just a footnote.”

“Not to me.”

Kaidan studied her quietly and then pushed away from the wall. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll help you.”

Shepard frowned. “How?”

“You need the location of a dormant relay.” Kaidan stood in front of her. “I’ll help you find it.”

***

“Kaidan Alenko.” Miranda sighed and tapped her nails on the desk. She gazed at Shepard. “Decided you needed me after all, despite the histrionics?”

Jacob and three other Cybernet security offices stood in a square around Kaidan and Shepard. The light from Citadel skyscrapers obscured the stars in the window behind Miranda. 

“I stomped on our friendship bracelet a few times,” Shepard said. “Feel all better now.” 

Kaidan glanced at Jacob, then folded his arms, and focused back on Miranda. “Generous not blindfolding us on our way up.”

“Us?” Miranda grinned lopsidedly. “Only you. I trust Shepard, even when I don’t like her.”

Kaidan mirrored her grin. “Taupe paint for the hallways. Evenly spaced metal benches between doors. I’ve learned so much.”

“You had four pairs of hands helping you along by the collar. If they weren’t there, every room’s window down the hallway would have your forehead print.”

Kaidan shrugged. “Felt kind of kingly with the escort anyway.”

“Giving them sunglasses would ramp up the mystique,” Shepard said.

“Glad we can be a joke,” Jacob said. “We’re all armed. You, I might point out, are not.”

“Two on two with biotics,” Shepard said. “Someone draws their sword to strike an adder, it would be epic.”

“Legendary,” Kaidan corrected.

“Legendary,” Shepard amended.

Jacob stared at them like they’d put on clown noses. “I don’t know about any adder or whatever, but yeah, no reason to provoke us, we’ll get along fine.”

“Arthurian reference I believe.” Miranda steepled her hands on the desk. “You can go, Taylor. Wait outside the door, then you can escort Admiral Alenko to the ejection hatch.”

“We’ll be right outside.” Jacob motioned at his men.

Kaidan watched them go. “How’d you get the calibre of Taylor for your security team?”

“Guarding the Primarch himself would be a step down from guarding what I have here.”

“You do make me curious,” Kaidan said.

“Just more schemes to squeeze blood out of the turnips.” Shepard flopped in a chair facing Miranda’s desk. “More ways to make desperate people liquidate their retirement to save the life of their dying child.”

Miranda rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair. “You got Alenko onboard? Surprised but not displeased. Just needed a little time to perchlorate, Alenko?”

“You can call me Kaidan. And--”

“You can call me Dr. Lawson.”

“And,” Kaidan continued, “Sure, I percolated. This still feels ridiculous.”

“Then why are you here?” Miranda tapped a pen on the desk. “You couldn’t have counted on being allowed through the front door to plant your bugs in the hallway.”

“Tell him everything you’ve told me. The marbles and whatnot.”

“That’s just a theory.” Miranda twisted the pen around in its cap.

“Just a theory or not, it’s all we’ve got. Lay it out for him.”

Miranda cocked her head with a tired frown.

“Please,” Shepard added.

Kaidan sat in the other chair facing Miranda’s desk. “Marbles?”

***

“And that’s it,” Miranda finished.

Diagrams glowed on the desk’s holoscreen. Kaidan sat on the edge of his chair peering at them. 

Miranda watched him with a smirk. “Q and A session starts now.”

Kaidan’s eyes flickered to Miranda. He sat back in his chair with a frown. “I don’t think it would have worked.”

Miranda scowled. “Why?”

“How’s injecting eezo the same as having it in the atmosphere?”

“Eezo radiates through the skin. Eezo, Shard particles, Shepard’s biotics, and electrical energy. It’s a recipe.”

“You throw flour, butter, and berries into a bowl, it doesn’t make a pie. It’s more than just ingredients. It’s what you do with them.”

“Oh, well, then.” Miranda sat up higher in her chair and waved a hand out. “Alliance Admiral, Council Spectre,  _ and  _ mass relay expert.”

“I’m not saying that.”

“Let’s not nettle each other,” Shepard said. “What do you mean, Kaidan?”

“This situation is set up like a mass relay, right? In part. An electrical charge conducts through an environment of eezo. It reacts with the Shard in a discharge of dark energy. It moves a ship through time and space to its configured destination. If it’s a primary relay, the destination is always to its partnered relay. Theoretically, you’re saying, Shepard herselt moved through time and space, but sideways, to her closest open connection. Theoretically.”

“Your point?” Miranda asked.

Kaidan twisted to face Shepard. “You said a Shard exploded over you. You were out in a lightning storm after a crash aerosolized eezo. The same circumstances aligned on this side. What else though? Where were you?”

“On the beach.” Shepard felt the rain and sand in her face. Waves crashed in the distance. The flashing night sky illuminated the inkly black outline of a house in the distance. “I forgot my bag. I went outside to get it.”

“And here? Where was she when this happened?”

Shepard put her elbow on the armrest and chewed absently on one of her nails. Kaidan’s eyes weighed on her.

“You don’t want to say?” he asked finally.

“Do I really need to -- You know, what? Fine,” Shepard dropped the hand from her mouth. “I woke up in Cicero’s apartment.”

Kaidan didn’t seem phased by the revelation. “His apartment’s on the Vancouver shoreline?

“Oceanfront.”

“But you were inside?”

“The window by the bed was open, blinds rattling, ocean stirred up below. But I was inside.”

“Significance?” Miranda rolled her eyes to Kaidan wearily.

“Like I said, a mass relay. Where is the Shard that powers a relay located? It’s in that hazy, white beam.”

Shepard’s attention snapped full to Kaidan. “You tested the beam.”

“It’s ions, suspended water molecules, and eezo. Sounds an awful lot like sea spray. That’s what would be in wind off the ocean, especially in a storm. And summertime? Probably organic material, too, but I don’t think that matters. What matters is the correct environment with the Shard, the electricity, and a source of biotic energy.”

“Alicia Mason disappeared from a celebration at HQ,” Shepard mused. “HQ is on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. It was outside in the Memorial Gardens. What did you say, Miranda? Alicia Mason in this timeline was incarcerated, but you said she had a nice room with a view of the ocean. She could have had her window open.”

Miranda stood up from her desk with a thoughtful expression.. “This would be a simpler way to understand the mechanism. Shepard’s essentially the Shard core of the relay.”

“The Shard in its beam,” Kaidan qualified. “Activated by lightning in the air and her internal biotics.”

“Great.” Shepard slapped her leg. “Now how do we replicate it?”

“If he’s right about needing eezo vaporized, then our only option is illegal. It’s extremely difficult to aersolize eezo and dangerous. We’ll need to create the beam’s environment completely, use the reading of the beam to get levels exact for all components. After you’re exposed to Shard particles, you’ll return to my lab.”

“Or something simpler,” Kaidan said. “Something not illegal.”

Shepard eyed him. “Use a mass relay’s beam?”

“Right,” Kaidan said. “The only problem is that the beam changes when the Shard is removed.”

“The beam turns gray,” Shepard said.

“The eezo dissipates. Other readings change as well.”

Miranda came behind Kaidan and faced Shepard. “Then you’d need to find an active relay that still has the Shard in place. Use its beam?”

“Or . . .” Kaidan indicated the window behind the desk.

Shepard followed the glittering city lights up to the white beam in the distance. “That would work?”

“The mass relays under construction or unrepaired are in bad shape. With all the debris, you might not even be able to reach the inner chamber. The ones that have been repaired are guarded. The Shards can be used as weapons, so they’re well protected.”

“What’s your title good for if you can’t gain clearance to your own relay?” Miranda asked.

“The problem would be getting Shepard through. She’s an Alliance criminal. Technically. I’d have to intimidate or lie to the soldiers guarding the relay, and I’m not going to do that. Someone will be blamed for letting me through with Shepard, and it’s the little people who get hurt.”

“But you think the Citadel’s beam will be easier to access?” Miranda lifted an eyebrow.

“There isn’t a Shard. It’s not guarded like a weapon. My reading from the beam near Tuchanka was consistent with records from other relays. It was consistent with recordings of the Citadel’s beam.”

“If it doesn’t have a Shard then why isn’t it like the gray beam?” Shepard said.

“The Citadel’s beam has always been unique. The Citadel acted as a relay to dark space. It connected to London at one time. I don’t know how the Citadel works or why the beam’s still there. I don’t think it matters. The Citadel’s beam has the same composition as the white beam in a mass relay holding a Shard.”

“That’s it then,” Shepard said. “I can’t risk the Shard particles wearing off before I reach the beam. I’ll bring the Shard back here, shatter it in the Citadel’s beam, then use the Citadel’s beam as my environment to transport home. I only need an electrical charge, which Miranda already created for my Omni-Tool.”

Shepard’s whole body felt lighter. Kaidan wasn’t an arm spam away, and for a devastating moment, she almost reached out to run her fingers through his hair. Instead, Shepard stood up sharply and strolled to the window. Overhead of the Citadel’s lights, the beam glowed in the darkness with Earth as a distant backdrop.

“You still have the problem of finding a Shard,” Miranda said.

“That’s where I think I can help,” Kaidan said, absorbed in studying the floor.

Shepard pivoted on her heels to face him. “You’ve already helped.”

“How?” Miranda asked him.

Kaidan lifted his eyes to Shepard. “The Shadow Broker.”

“The intel brokers are scattered and in hiding,” Miranda said. “I heard everything fell apart.”

“Many of the people Liara trusted were killed after . . . after things fell apart. After Liara was gone. But someone took up the mantle, downloaded and purged all of Liara’s information. I’ve heard rumors. I don’t know who it is, but I know that person exists.”

“Whoever it is,” Miranda said. “Why would the person risk dealing with you? Unless the new Shadow Broker insulates himself with a full network of sources and brokers, he’ll be the next man down.”

“That’s the thing.” Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes shifted between Miranda and Shepard. “To build the network again, the Shadow Broker needs the names and contacts of all the sources and brokers. I have the list.”

Miranda pitched forward in her chair. “You have a list of all the Shadow Broker’s contacts? The whole galaxy? Every name?”

“I think it’s complete.”

Miranda released a hiss of breath between her lips. “Does the new Shadow Broker know you have it? He didn’t get it with the rest of Liara’s files?”

“It was kept separately. It’s a Red Pyx-DataKey.”

A Pyx-DataKey? Red-level. An expensive bit of hardware, but understandable given the information it held. A Pyx-DataKey was impossible to hack. Opening the DataKey to access the hardware destroyed it. Information couldn’t be copied from it. Even the screen the DataKey projected to read the information was unphotographable. The holoscreen was only viewable by one person at one time with the naked eye. Someone could transcribe the information by typing into an external document, but typically the data was too massive for such labor. The names and contact information of the galaxy’s entire shadow network had to be massive.

“The Shadow Broker, or any number of people, would kill you for that information,” Miranda said, breaking Shepard’s train of thought.

Shepard’s throat thickened. “Have you been threatened, Kaidan?”

“Not directly.”

“Why hang onto it?” Miranda said.

“Eventually, someone will figure out I have it. If I destroy it or give it away, I won’t have it when they come for it. I . . .” He opened his mouth then snapped it shut.

“What?” Shepard asked, leaving the window. She perched on the edge of the chair next to him. “What is it?”

“I have no way to prove I haven’t transcribed the information. Made a copy. No way to prove I won’t remember the information on it.”

Miranda’s face stiffened. “You think they’ll kill you over it no matter what you do?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It depends on who the Broker is.”

“Then you need to get it to the Broker and be done with it,” Shepard said simply.

Kaidan gave Shepard a long look. “I can use it to bargain for the location of a dormant relay. I’d need to find a link to the new Broker first, a contact, someone to arrange an exchange. The Red DataKey is the only thing the Broker will want enough to help us. Credits mean nothing. All you or my privileged information means nothing without a network to sell it. Our information would probably be small potatoes anyway.”

“Once the galaxy knows you have that list, there’s no going back, Kaidan.” Miranda’s voice was flat. “If the new Shadow Broker thinks you transcribed a copy or know too much, he’ll kill you. The minute you hand that DataKey over, you’ve lost any insurance on not being killed. Later, while walking down some dark alley . . .”

“I know that,” Kaidan said sharply.

“Why’d you take it then?” Miranda’s brow scrunched. “What the hell were you thinking, Kaidan?”

“I didn’t take it,” Kaidan snapped. “It’s in Thessia. Always has been. Everything else that was taken, all of Liara’s files and work, was on Orian. But not the Red Pyx-DataKey.”

“There’s no good way out of possessing it.” Miranda shoved away from the desk with such force the desk screeched on the floor. She stood over him. “You’ll die because of this.”

Shepard’s heart pounded. “Kaidan . . .”

“I don’t know what else to do. At least, this way something good comes from it. I need to give it over before someone finds out I have it and forces me. They’ll hurt Leida. I don’t want it to get that far. It’s better I seek out the new Shadow Broker first.”

“That’s why you were jumpy on the mission?” Shepard asked. “The Shadow Broker’s agents are after that information?”

“No, it’s like what I told you.” Kaidan hunched over his knees with folded hands. “Cicero wants me dead. I’m not being paranoid. Since Liara’s death, I’ve had two missions go awry. Friendlies turned on me. There were times I was supposed to be somewhere, but wasn’t, and the ones who were there instead . . . Both missions I did under Parliament’s behest, all because Cicero turned up some last minute lead in the Terminus System.” 

“With the war, you aren’t vying for the Sol System with him. He’ll let up,” Shepard said.

“The decision on Sol is put off for now, but I’m still his biggest threat in Parliament. I don’t even mean to be. If I’d known . . .” Kaidan swallowed, drew a deep breath, and straightened in his chair. “It doesn’t matter who’s bullet. I know the Federacy is offering credits for my head. Unofficially. Gathering mercs. There’s the person who stole Liara’s information, this new Shadow Broker, who will want the DataKey. But that person is hardly alone. Every crime boss in the galaxy knows what it’s worth. Whatever happens will happen. I’ll retrieve the Red Pyx-DataKey from Thessia and locate one of Liara’s agents, a trusted one. I suspect he’ll know a way to communicate to the new Shadow Broker through Liara’s old data servers. I think my best chance to locate him is on Illium. Once arranged, I can exchange information with the new Shadow Broker. Shepard finds her Shard and uses the Citadel’s beam to return home.”

Blood leached from Miranda’s face as he spoke. She didn’t say anything. Shepard felt sick herself. Too many enemies wanted Kaidan dead: Cicero, the Federacy, the new Shadow Broker, anyone desiring information on that DataKey . . . His death felt inevitable. 

“Kaidan . . .” Shepard touched his hand.

He pulled his hand away and stood. “I’ve applied for a few days of leave to go to Thessia, but with the war . . . We can make plans when I know.” He checked the time on his Omni-Tool. “I’m meeting with Parliament in a few hours to review mobilization and preparation efforts. Is my entourage outside?” Kaidan looked to Miranda.

She nodded weakly, and Kaidan moved to the door. When the door slid shut behind him, Miranda dropped heavily into her chair.

Shepard’s hands balled into fists on her armrests. “I’ll kill Cicero. I’ll kill the new Shadow Broker. I’ll kill these Federacy people. I’ll kill anyone who touches him.”

“Killing Cicero may end his plots,” Miranda said, “but the Federacy can’t be killed, and the Shadow Broker isn't as simple as killing one person. Every crime lord or ambitious merc who suspects Kaidan has that information will want it. I’d say just destroy it, but he’s right. If they threaten him with a hostage or torture him, he won’t have the DataKey to give up to them. They won’t stop until he’s dead. Even if he gave it to someone who advertised possession of it, Kaidan’s still a loose thread. Knows too much just by possessing it. That DataKey has already killed him. It’ll kill you, too, if you don’t stay away from it.”

“Anyone hurts Kaidan, I will hurt them.” Shepard stomped to her feet. “He’s not doing this alone. I don’t care if they kill me. No one’s touching him.”

“Shepard.” Miranda ran her fingers into her hair and sat back in her chair. “He’s not your fifteen-year-long lay. You need to stay back from this. Let Kaidan handle it. Wait for the location of the relay. Even if you protect him now, you can’t protect him forever. Having possessed that DataKey will catch up with him eventually.”

“This is Kaidan.” Shepard slapped her palm on the desk. Miranda cringed and frowned at her. “I still love him, Miranda. I’m not letting anything happen to him.”

Shepard shot to the door. Kaidan wanted to help her, and she damn well was going to help him. No one was going to lay a hand on him without it getting ripped off.

Within twenty-four hours, she'd get the chance. The plan for Kaidan's death was already in motion. 


	20. Flag on a Casket

**CHAPTER 2: Flag on a Casket**

“Shepard, Shepard. Haha. Yes, I’m still in.” Wrex paced on her screen. A rough-textured metal wall spread behind him. Bolts rusting in the bulkhead’s seams.

“The Council’s recess will be ending in a few weeks.” Shepard did her own pacing in the Spectre office. “Are you still on the run from Wreav? He won’t meet you in combat?”

Wrex snorted. “Weakingly won’t face me. Puts off my challenges with excuses. I get an assassin every other day. Last one a drell. Made me think of Thane. Good times.”

“Glad your assassination attempts are stirring nostalgia.”

“Would be fun, but I’m tired of waiting. Wreav is biding his time. Planning something. Heard he’s been defiling ancestors’ graves. Looking for something. Something to help him in the arena when we meet.”

“Like what?”

“He opens the graves of our great warriors killed by thresher maw. Something to do with that.”

“Can’t imagine the krogan are thrilled he’s breaking hollow ground.”

“He won’t admit it. If your Council listens -- we get our planets -- that may force Wreav to meet me in combat. We’ll see. Krogan love war, but there can be more. There are other fights, like Alenko says. Fights in the Terminus System.”

“Well,” Shepard leaned forward on the desk. “You make some concessions to the Council and meet them halfway, we can work out a deal that makes both sides happy.”

“We can see.” Wrex paused mid step and looked straight at the screen. “No word who turned you into Wreav? Confirmed Wreav had your flight plan.”

“The fake flight plan,” Shepard said coolly. “How’d he know about our meeting on the moon?”

“A tip. Comm call from Sol, I hear.”

Then there was a leak in the Council offices as Kaidan suspected. Probably Cicero’s daughter, whether meaning ill or not.

“Okay, Wrex. I’m finalizing things with the Council. Date and place. You’d better show up.”

“Not Earth, Shepard. Neutral land, and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll look into it. See if I can find someplace with a lurking monster that I can not tell _you_ about this time.”

Wrex’s grin widened, a sparkle in his red eyes. “That, I would like.”

Shepard stood back and folded her arms. “And then I’ll let the Council space you.”

“Ah. Memories.”

“Bye, Wrex.”

“Shepuurd.”

Shepard turned off the screen. Her focus was on going home, but if she could support peace talks from afar, she would. She checked the time on her Omni-Tool. Kaidan’s war planning session with Parliament should have been over by now. No messages. A fishy odor made her nose wrinkle. She needed to clean out the pet cemetery floating in the tank, but later. 

She left the Spectre offices and turned down the hall into the old Council wing. Her footsteps echoed in the stillness of the dim lighting and generous dust. Light spilled from an open doorway at the end of the hall, the same room she’d seen Kaidan working on Terminus System projects. Low voices made her feet slow. Shadows moved in the doorway’s light.

“Immediately?” It was Hackett’s voice.

“In the next twenty-four hours.” Kaidan’s voice.

Shepard softened her steps. She slid close to the door, enough to see inside.

“I don’t understand.” Hackett stood in the center of the room. “This directive didn’t come from Parliament.”

“It’s from the Prime Minister and his War Committee.” A slap and thump. Shepard stretched her neck to glimpse Kaidan disassembling the bulky comm system on the wall. He was packing it in boxes.

“Something’s going on with the War Committee.” Hacket stroked his beard. “You confronted them about the Thallenix cannons? The Far Rim and the lost quarian vessels?”

“Yes.” Kaidan looped an extension cord in circles around his forearm. “They said it wasn’t unknown to have cannons of that caliber owned by the more influential system crime lords.”

“Not in your experience though? You haven’t seen mercs in the Terminus System with that firepower?”

“Never. I’ve heard the Federacy is recruiting mercs. A lot of them, but even the Federacy doesn’t have an advanced navy enough for technology like that.”

“The upgrades?”

“The incendiary upgrade on the cannons? They admitted it was proprietary Alliance technology. Acted defensive when I wanted to bring it before the whole of Parliament.”

“You don’t plan to?”

“They’ll create something to explain it now I tipped my hand. They’ll say an Alliance frigate was stolen last year in the Transverse or something. It had upgraded cannons.” Kaidan flopped the coiled extension cord into a black tub.

“That’s when he ordered you to the Far Rim?”

“No, that came first. It wasn’t an afterthought.”

Hackett snared Kaidan’s arm as he passed. “No leave at all? Not even one week, a few days? You’ve been active for three months.”

“There’s a war on. They need me on this mission.”

“The only ship sent to investigate?” Hackett frowned. “And it has to be you captaining it?”

“Said they needed a senior officer to speak with the quarian.”

“You requested support ships?”

“Denied. Too large of an Alliance presence could look like we’re trying to intimidate the quarians. They’re already suspicious.”

“You believe that?” 

Kaidan eyed him silently.

“You have a prespecified rendezvous point just outside the Far Rim: set time and location. The only ship. _You_ , specifically, are required to be the one captaining it?”

“Yes.” Kaidan’s voice wavered. He looked down, lips parted but then closing again. He didn’t say anything.

“Don’t go, Kaidan.” Hackett gripped his shoulder. “Better to be thrown in the brig for insubordination than . . .”

“I can’t disobey a direct order from Parliament’s War Committee, Steven.”

“You’ll be arrested, but yes, you can. I care about you like a son, Kaidan.”

Kaidan wiped his nose with the back of his hand and looked up.

“You have that little girl.” Hackett squeezed his shoulder.

“And have my legacy be disgrace? Misconduct, insubordination, purposefully refusing orders during a time of war?”

“You’d be alive.”

“For how long?” Kaidan said weakly. “When something happens to me, I don’t want her remembering me that way. Ashamed of me.”

“Break contract. Resign.”

“That would be better? Leave illegally within days of the official declaration of war? How would that look? I’d still end up in jail. I don’t think that’s any better for a legacy.” Kaidan stared at the floor at his feet.

Hacket’s hand slid to Kaidan’s back. “I would have retired years ago, if not for you. The stress was too much. Had doctors warning me. But you being here, taking up the fight . . . I had someone in Parliament I could trust. I knew the Alliance would be all right, even with all the sharks.”

“But you want me to quit?” Kaidan’s voice was low and strained. Shepard held her breath to hear them.

“I want you to live.”

“Quitting won’t change that. I have other enemies.”

Hackett sighed, deep and heavy. He slid an arm around Kaidan’s shoulder in a consoling way, like spreading a wing. The gesture was so tender, paternal, it made Shepard draw back. There were reasons you didn’t eavesdrop. It was an invasion. Shepard slipped back down the hall to the Spectre offices.

***

Shepard sat in the Spectre office staring at the dead fish tank. The green glow filled the dark office. Vancouver had a new aquarium in her timeline, if five years still qualified as new. All that time, she’d never gone. Too busy. Too much to do. This Vancouver didn’t have an aquarium. Too much funding needed for militarization not civilian recreation. They needed their swollen ranks, horde of spacecrafts, and a breadth of command centers and bases. They’d rather build tanks that fired cannons than held fish.

Her Omni-Tool chirped. She had been expecting a message. She walked down the same empty Council hall she’d stood eavesdropping in hours earlier. The conference room was mostly packed up now. Tubs were stacked against the wall. The Terminus System map on the center table was gone. The screen on the wall where Kaidan had been comm-conferencing was now rolled away. Everything was either packed or unassembled against the wall waiting for packing. Shepard crossed the conference room to the office she’d found him in once before.

“Kaidan, hey.”

He looked up from the boxes on his desk.

“Shepard.” He smiled. There was genuineness in it that she hadn’t felt before from him.

“Packing up?” She surveyed the sparse walls and floor. Maps, graphs, rows of datapads: gone and presumably packed.

“Here.” Kaidan lifted a datapad from the corner of his desk and handed it to her.

Shepard thumbed down a bulleted list of directions.

“The Red Pyx-DataKey is in a safety chamber,” Kaidan said. “The Aeroleon High Security Bank in Armali. It has strict clearance protocols, biometrics, reflexive memory pass coding. I almost couldn’t get you access.”

“Kaidan.” Shepard sighed and looked up. Meeting his eyes made her stomach sick. He was sending her to Thessia alone.

“Listen, Shepard. I wrote everything down, but clearance will be hell. Worse than setting up any of your Alliance security clearances. I talked to the bank, validated you, myself. They know a new client is coming to gain access to my vault. Miranda forwarded me your biometrics, DNA, retina, everything. The bank will verify it. They’ll put you through the wringer. But you’ll get access to my security box. The DataKey’s inside.”

“Kaidan,” Shepard repeated.

“Your identity should be safe with the bank. Before and after accessing the bank be careful. After you have it, then go to Illium. I wrote down some leads: names, people to talk to, what to say to them. Use my name. It will mean something to them.”

She grabbed his wrist. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I can’t go. You’ll need to do it on your own. That’s why I’ve written it all out. You need to find Liara’s top broker in Illium. He’s in hiding, may not trust you. You have my credentials to show sources you find in Illium, people who can help you locate him. Any passcodes or security phrases they may ask to validate you know me, it’s all there. Once you find him, he can contact the new Shadow Broker. Arrange a meeting. And here.” Kaidan took the datapad from her limp fingers and pointed at the screen. “The video files, here. I recorded a message authorizing you to act on my behalf and confirming I have the Red Pyx-DataKey. I verify I want you to act in the exchange in my place or no deal. Let them think it's a live vid if that’s possible. They don’t need to know it was recorded beforehand.” He passed it back to her.

Shepard bit her lower lip. “I can’t just call you? Actually let you confirm it live?”

He concentrated on the floor as if thinking.

“No,” he decided and met her eyes, but looked away quickly. “It will be over a week before you’re in Illium. That’s why I recorded the message. And, here, something else.”

He circled the desk and picked something out of a drawer. He considered it in his palm for a second then walked back to Shepard.

“My daughter,” Kaidan said in a tight voice. He clenched his jaw, but pushed on. “I’m leaving tomorrow on assignment. I don’t have time to go to Thessia and see her. I messaged Eithelia about you. I need you . . . If you would . . .” His eyes dropped, flipping something back and forth in his fingertips. He stared at it a long second. Shepard’s heart beat in her head. Kaidan grabbed Shepard’s hand and pressed a circle of metal into her palm. “It’s Liara’s. Benezia’s before that. Probably more generations. I don’t know. Now I wished I’d asked. Leida should have it. She’s too young now, but Eithelia can keep it for her.”

Shepard pinched the cool metal in her fingertips. A ring. It was platinum-colored with a lavender metal intertwining the band. The stone wasn’t anything Shepard could identify: translucent, bright, almost glowing like a sunset. A sense of familiarity rose in her chest as she turned it over in her fingers.

“Did Liara wear this on the Normandy?” Shepard asked.

“No. I think everything was still too fresh with her mother. And with combat, she couldn’t wear it.”

The image lanced through her. Shepard remembered.

“Liara wears this ring in my time. I remember it now. Second finger on the right hand.”

Kaidan’s eyes sharpened on Shepard’s face. “Liara’s alive?”

Shepard's chest twinged with the brightness in his eyes. “Yes.”

Kaidan rolled his lips together and nodded. “There’s this too.”

It was a diamond ring. 

“Liara’s wedding ring. It doesn’t have the sentimental value of Benezia’s ring. Liara only wore it six years, nothing in the lifespan of an asari, and it’s a human tradition. I don’t know if it has any meaning, but there it is.”

The rings clinked together in Shepard’s palm. “Why are you giving these to me, Kaidan?”

“To give to Eithelia.” He turned to move around his desk.

Shepard caught his arm. “Give me the real reason, Kaidan.”

“I don’t want them to get lost. Lost in the shuffle if . . .” 

He held Shepard’s eye for a long time, long enough she realized he wasn’t going to finish the sentence. 

“You can do this for me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” Shepard folded the datapad he’d given her under her arm and studied the rings.

“Oh.” Kaidan paused, then pointed at the datapad. “My readings from the relay’s beam are on there. I wrote down anything specific you may need to know. Probably nothing you couldn’t find on the extranet.” Kaidan moved away. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Shepard grabbed a chair standing against the wall and set it down by his desk. She sat. Kaidan regarded her with a frown.

“I probably need to get some sleep, Shepard. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Kaidan?” Shepard hunched forward, mouth sticky and dry. “Can’t I stay?”

Kaidan’s frown hardened.

“It’s not a come on,” Shepard said quickly. “I promise. I just . . .”

“Want to be in my vicinity?” He gave a half-smile, then a tired sigh. “I should sleep, not talk.”

Shepard bobbed her head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Not that I’m not flattered you want to spend time with me, but tonight’s . . . I should sleep. Try to sleep.”

Shepard came around the desk to him. He looked up sharply from stacking datapads. His body tensed as she slipped her arms around his waist, but he didn’t push her away. He folded his arms around her shoulders in a loose hold. The rings dug into her palm before giving him a final squeeze. She could have lingered, but she drew back before he made the move to squirm free.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she said. “I won’t let anything happen.”

“Sometimes you can’t stop bad things from happening to the people you care about.”

“Maybe not,” Shepard allowed. “This won’t be one of those times.”

The rings burned in her fist all the way back to the Spectre offices. She sat at her desk with green fishtank light casting shadows around the room and studied the rings. He could give these to Eithelia himself. She would make sure.

***

“Again?” Wilson stood in the doorway of his apartment. “No pre-sweated running clothes this time? How did you get up here?”

Shepard wasn’t standing in the hallway exactly. Wilson had his own floor. A landing the size of a closet was all that stood between the elevator and his apartment door, between failure and success.

“May I come in?”

Wilson folded his arms with a scowl. “This is my private residence.”

“Thought it was a bit big for an office.”

“I won’t reinforce this kind of behavior.” Wilson stood fully in the doorway. “If you don’t want to make a scene, you’ll leave.”

“It’s just you and me and this closet space. To make a scene, I’d need an audience. Pigeons watching from a window doesn’t count.” Shepard centered herself in front of him. “Please. I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Something important to _you._ That’s not the same as being important to _me_.”

“Do you want this war? If you don’t, then listen to me.”

“Of course, I don’t want war.” Wilson narrowed his deep-set eyes.

“Then let me in and let’s talk. Five minutes tops.”

Wilson’s neck muscles tightened. Morning sun glinted off his bald head. He finally backed up and let Shepard stroll past him.

The apartment was what she would have expected of him: large, well-ordered, expensive but not showy. A room to her left looked like a study: darkwood bookcases, green felt-lined desk, wingback chairs by a fireplace. There was even a globe that probably opened to reveal a crystal decanter of some liquor. It was a place Shepard imagined someone would wear a robe and smoke a pipe. For an instant, Shepard wondered if Wilson didn’t wear one of those floppy Scrooge hats to bed at night. 

“Nice place,” Shepard said.

The books on the entryway shelf were all classics, hard-covered, restored but with old and cracked leather binding. Alphabetical order by author. Shepard grinned. Even with the empty space left on the shelf, not a single book was tipped over or leaning. Sharp, upright, alphabetical on a dust-free shelf.

“This isn’t the library.” Wilson stood behind her.

“Good, because I don’t have a library voice.” Shepard smiled up at the golden-filigree chandelier, the wooden coat rack by the door, the polished row of shoes against the wall. The shoes were unlaced, black, practically indistinguishable. How did he choose? She turned back to Wilson whose face was twisted like a rung rag watching her. 

“Down to business shall we?” she said.

“By all means,” Wilson said through his teeth.

“All right.” Shepard clapped her hands and mustered a smile. “Urdnot Wrex. We need a time and place. The war just got kicked into high gear by engaging the Alliance. We need things arranged before all hell breaks loose, and it’s too late to shake hands.”

“It’s already too late.” Wilson eyed her for a moment. “What you were trying to do is commendable, but Urdnot Wrex is a bullheaded negotiator. Always has been. He’s no politician. We’d never get anywhere anyway. Now we’re at war.”

“So what, the krogan and Alliance had a little spat in the nebula.” Shepard lifted an umbrella out of a bin by the door and turned it over in her hand curiously. “We can still fix what’s happening with the krogan.”

“Will you stop poking around?” Wilson tore the umbrella out of her hand. He tipped it head-first back into the bin. Maybe the little bin was dedicated to that single purpose, holding Councilor Wilson’s single umbrella.

“I’ve talked to Tevos, talked to Sparatus. I even had the stars align and got a hold of Ilk. They’re skeptical but onboard. No one wants to see another krogan war. No one wants a genocide to cull it.”

Wilson frowned and made minor adjustments to the umbrella’s caned handle until it sat just how he wanted. Illuminating to discover there was a right way to arrange an umbrella in a bucket.

“If they’re onboard, I’m willing, of course.” Wilson faced her. “I think it’s a waste of a good recess to cut it short for this. I think nothing will get done, but I’ll be in my chair.”

“What chair’s that exactly? The Council doesn’t have a centralized chamber that I’m aware of.”

“It can be Thessia. Earth’s too turbulent right now. Palavan and Sur'kesh are too difficult.”

“Thessia?” Shepard shook her head. “It needs to be a neutral location. It can’t be a media circus either. No one should know, not until we know terms have been reached. A small group can make decisions. Crowds shouting in their ears and each word said being weighed by network newscasters or other politicians? No. Just you, the other Councilors, Wrex, and an Alliance representative.” This was the lead in to her entire purpose being here.

“I agree,” Wilson allowed, “to an extent. It would be nice not to have it broadcast like the system olympics. You’re being unrealistic though.”

“Illium,” Shepard said. It worked and aligned with her personal goals. “We’ll gather there. It’s neutral. We’ll lock ourselves in the basement room of some hotel and hash it out. Make a peace treaty. Something Wrex can offer to the krogan.”

“You’ll be the moderator, I suppose?” Wilson folded his arms and looked down his nose at her. “When recess is truly over and the Council reconvenes, you realize, your Spectre status is agenda item number one.”

“I didn’t start this war. The first shot was inevitable. At least, this way we can talk about getting it resolved. It doesn’t have to be this way with the krogan.”

“All that is good and fine. But that’s neither here nor there. No. What I’m talking about is your encyclopedia of indiscretions and abuse of power that hit the bestseller list.”

“I realize that. That and the Contender issue.” Shepard looked him in the eye. “I’ve changed. Give me another chance. Put me on probation or something. Let me show you I’m not that way anymore.”

“We wouldn’t have known all your exploits earlier either, except for this informant’s report. If you didn’t change, we’d hardly know without having you followed.”

“I don’t have my ship like before. I’ll be a dedicated agent to the Council. But,” Shepard paced, readying her words, “let’s cement this meeting. Illium, a week or two from now. I’ll arrange it. We need to know who’s coming to the table.”

“We know who’s at the table,” Wilson said wearily.

“The Alliance is the only race in open warfare with the krogan. We need a representative.”

“I was an Alliance soldier for over sixty years. I’m more than qualified to defend their interests.”

“You can’t speak for them. Someone in Parliament will need to draw up a proposal for the cease-fire.”

“I suppose you have someone in mind.”

“Kaidan Alenko. He was at the preliminary meeting. He suggested the krogan expansion into the Terminus System. He’ll be invaluable in that part of the negotiation.”

“He’s not king of the Terminus System to parcel out land.” Wilson gave her a long look. “You and Alenko have history. This isn’t a plus one event.”

Shepard smirked. “This isn’t that.”

“I don’t believe you. We should have Cicero. He’s Prime Minister of War. He can make the real calls. He knows where the Alliance stands in the big picture.”

“Cicero wants war.” Shepard paced and bumped the umbrella bin. Wilson frowned and adjusted it again.

“No one wants war,” Wilson said. “Cicero’s a proponent, because he wants to keep Earth safe. He wants to meet the threat head on. He’s a skilled negotiator. He’d be the voice the Alliance needs, if he can get away.”

Shepard had no doubt Cicero would jump at it. He’d find a way to slip out of his duties for a week. Anything to sabotage talks. He wanted to keep his war-given scepter and make his entry a little longer in the history books.

“With all seriousness, talks will fail with Cicero.”

“Let Parliament nominate an agent then. The Council won’t dictate who they send.”

Shepard ground her teeth. Kaidan had worked with Wilson to save her from Alliance sentencing. She’d hoped that meant the relationship between Wilson and Kaidan was better in this timeline. Apparently, not. Kaidan putting Wilson in Spectre custody was an insurmountable offense. 

“It needs to be Admiral Alenko,” Shepard pushed.

“We don’t need another Shepard-Alenko show.” Wilson glared at her.

The tension in his shoulders was coiling like a spring. It might explode if she pushed much further. Wilson wasn’t without a heart though. He respected the truth. 

Shepard sighed and put her hands on hips. “The War Committee is ordering Alenko to the Far Rim. He’s supposed to investigate the lost ships and smooth the quarians’ feathers.”

“All the more reason to not interfere. It would be blatantly overruling them.”

“He’s the only ship.” Shepard looked him in the eye. “The only ship in a zone where ships have gone missing. He’s pinned to an exact location at an exact time. Middle of space. All to meet some random quarian admiral who could just as easily talk to Parliament on comm.”

“This is meant to persuade me?”

“Why not meet the quarian on Rannoch or Orian? If you were head of the War Committee would you send one ship all alone into a hot zone? Make it stop in place, adrift, waiting? Fixed place. Fixed time. Alone. Fleet Admiral Kaidan Alenko is required to captain it.”

Wilson’s brow furrowed, but he crossed his arm. “Alenko oversees Terminus Operations. It’s a natural choice.”

“Would you send a top ranking officer, member of Parliament, to meet one quarian admiral in open space just to smooth feathers?”

“You seem uncommonly informed on Alliance matters. Classified Parliamentary orders. Alenko told you this? He wants something, he should come to me, not you.”

“He didn’t leak classified intel. I snooped. Found out about it myself. Does any of this make sense to you?”

“I’m sure they have their reasons,” Wilson said vaguely but frowned at the floor.

“Look. You’re the only one who can intercede here. If not for Alenko, do it for the war. He is the one we need in those talks. I’m not just saying that. Cicero will sabotage it. The war will continue. People will die.”

“I have no reason to believe Admiral Cicero or any of the War Committee are not acting on good principle. Your perspective is biased. Your five minutes are up, aren’t they?” 

“I’m not biased.” Shepard moved to the front door but turned back sharply “Kaidan has a daughter on Thessia. A little girl who lost her mom. Kaidan’s been active for three months. He requested a few days leave to go see her. Apparently, smoothing feathers is too important. Too specifically crucial that it requires Kaidan be the one who does it. Leave was denied. A request for more ships? Denied. His request for live vid comm instead or meeting on Rannoch? Denied.”

Wilson had a dark look in his eye, but he didn’t speak. Shepard let the silence hang and waited.

“I already stepped on Parliament’s toes saving you,” he said finally.

“Fine! It’s on your head.” Shepard hit the door’s button but paused in the doorway. “If you do nothing, peace talks will fail. Millions will die. And when you go to bed at night, you can think about a flag on a casket and a little girl who has no one.”

“Hackett, other members of Parliament . . .”

“They can’t supersede War Committee orders. This is on you.”

“The implications you’re making are wild. I’ll think on it, but it’s time you go. Don’t burst in on me again.”

“Kaidan leaves in a few hours. Don’t think too long.” Shepard stalked out the door.

The door slid closed behind her. The elevator door opened before Shepard had pushed the button. A perfumed skirt suit stumbled into her coming out of the elevator.

“I’m so sorry.” A freckled-faced woman took a step back. Her initial glance turned into an open stare. “Spectre Shepard? Good to see you again.”

Shepard pumped her hand, but her expression must have been quizzical.

“Stacey,” the woman introduced. “I suppose it’s been a while. I’m Councilor Wilson’s information liaison.”

“Ah, Stacey. Right. Good to see you.”

The woman looked vaguely familiar but nothing more. She gave Shepard a smiling nod and passed around her to Wilson’s door. Shepard paused in the mouth of the elevator.

Stacey . . . Councilor Wilson’s assistant . . . Then she was . . .

Shepard snapped about face. The door was opening to Wilson’s apartment. He saw Shepard still daillying in the entryway and gave her an emphatic frown. He ushered Stacey past him and reached for the door’s button.

“Wait.” Shepard slapped her hand on the door. “I have an idea. Something simple, and we’ll both know the truth.” 

Shepard’s eyes moved past Wilson to the retreating figure of his liaison. 

“I’ll prove I’m right.” 

***

Kaidan must not have planned more of a good bye than the one he’d already given her. He was already at the dock overseeing crew check in, loading of supplies, and systems checks. Shepard frowned at the ship’s bulky shadow outside the dock’s window. The _Opus_ was an older ship, older than the Normandy by a few years, but with nothing redeemable like the Normandy’s stealth drive or top of the line deep-space sensors. It was a throw-away ship for a throw-away mission. 

“Admiral Alenko,” Shepard said, crossing the dock.

He turned from signing something on a datapad.

“Spectre.” Kaidan’s eyes shifted and widened on the two people coming behind her. “Councilor.”

“Sir,” said an eager officer waiting at Kaidan’s shoulder.

Kaidan absently thrust the datapad at him and met them part way.

“You’re going to the Far Rim?” Wilson said.

The freckled young woman with Wilson referenced her datapad. “Deep space near the Far Rim,” she qualified. “You’re meeting the quarians?”

“Yes.” Kaidan’s brow knit. “What’s this about, Councilor? We have plans to debark in three hours.”

Wilson’s posture tightened at Kaidan’s curtness, and he gave Shepard a sideways glare. He must have expected a warmer reception. Shepard gestured at the woman standing beside Wilson as a prompt, and Wilson moved into action.

“Admiral, this is my information liaison.” Wilson motioned. “This is Fleet Admiral Alenko.”

“Pleasure.” She held out a pale hand, which Kaidan shook with an intensifying frown.

“I would like her to accompany you on this venture,” Wilson continued. “Her assistance with the quarians may be quite useful. Additionally, I have sensitive data I need her to discuss with Admiral Haan.”

Kaidan tucked his fists under his arms. “Sorry, Councilor. We’re running a skeleton crew. I’m not meeting with anyone from the quarian Admiral Board, only that sub-Admiral. I’m sure a vid comm session would do better than sending a liaison in person.”

Wilson’s nostrils flared. He opened his mouth.

“Admiral,” Shepard said quickly. “Consider what the Councilor has to say.”

“I have considered it,” Kaidan pushed back. “I’m sorry. I’m running a lean crew. I dismissed more than half to help with the war effort. Your liaison would do more good here. It’s not a prestigious meeting.”

Dismissed his crew for the war effort? Shepard eyed Kaidan. No, that's not why he’d dismissed them.

“I will not be stonewalled by an Alliance officer.” Wilson pulled himself up taller in his wing-tipped shoes. “Alenko, if you--”

“Wilson’s liaison has worked with the Councilor for over a year.” Shepard stared Kaidan hard in the eye. “Liaison Cicero won’t get in your way.”

Kaidan’s eyes snapped to the freckled smile. “Admiral Cicero’s daughter?”

She ducked her head and pushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I’d rather stand for myself, sir. I don’t want any special treatment.”

Kaidan regarded her silently. He glanced back at the ship as if in thought. “I’m not sure--”

“Ah, Councilor Wilson,” said a smooth voice.

Shepard swung around to the approaching shadow. She tried to stifle the smug grin tugging the corners of her lips.

“Admiral Cicero.” Wilson smiled, not smug at all, maybe even warmly. “I understand Admiral Alenko is meeting quarians in the Far Rim to discuss the activity in the area.”

“Indeed.” Cicero inclined his head in Kaidan's direction. His eyes moved to his daughter. “It’s not the type of mission for a Council liaison.”

“You got the Councilor’s message then?” Shepard said.

Cicero’s eyes slid to Shepard and narrowed. “Did you suggest this to the Councilor?”

“The quarian are important allies to the Council and Alliance,” Shepard said. “If Admiral Alenko is able to settle their suspicions over the missing ships, it would be an opportunity to get them in our corner for the war.”

“I have sensitive information Ms. Cicero will be discussing with the senior quarian officer,” Wilson explained.

“Admiral, please.” Stacey gave her dad a pointed look. “I’m working under the Councilor. Please don’t interfere.”

“As Admiral Alenko may attest,” Cicero said, “this is a high risk operation. Non-Alliance personnel are not cleared. I apologize, but this is an Alliance vessel. As Prime Minister I won’t allow it.”

Wilson’s face darkened. Shepard tried to catch his eye meaningfully.

“Admiral!” Stacey reached out for his sleeve, but then seemed to catch herself. She lifted her head high like a professional. “Sir, it’s obvious your decision--”

“Very well,” Wilson said suddenly. “I will not overrule it. She stays.”

“You have no authority regarding an Alliance vessel, Councilor.”

“There’s another thing I came here for,” Wilson said and his gaze connected with Shepard for a second before moving to Kaidan. “Spectre Alenko is needed for a classified Council meeting. I can elaborate more in private. He will be representing Alliance interest, but furthermore, it’s his experience and knowledge of the Terminus System we need. Stopping the war may depend on it.”

Cicero’s expression was cool. “Rear Admiral York has worked in the Terminus System ten years, just like Alenko. She’s knowledgeable. Do you not agree, Alenko?”

Wilson spoke first. “I don’t want a rear admiral representing the Alliance. I need a member of Parliament. Decisions will need to be made.”

“Rear Admiral York and myself then. I have the highest authority to get those decisions made.”

“Only one person is required,” Wilson said testily. “Spectre Shepard has requested the group be small. The other delegates will not be bringing staff into the meeting.”

“The Rear Admiral need only be present for discussion of the Terminus System,” Cicero qualified. “Infact, that’s how I would prefer it.”

Wilson’s face burned redly. Cicero’s smooth, calm expression was a sharp contrast.

“Admiral Cicero,” Wilson said, voice frothy. “The Council is taking Spectre Alenko for the talks. This will be what happens. No negotiations. Come, Alenko.”

Wilson spun on his heels and marched to the hall. Kaidan’s gaze followed him, but he didn’t move himself. Stacey plucked at Cicero’s elbow, but Cicero’s attention was wholly focused on Kaidan like a magnifying glass on an ant.

Shepard tapped her Omni-Tool. “Ah. Almost forgot the time. I have an exclusive with ANN. They’re always interested in my personal life. Think I might just give in this time.” Her eyes slid from Cicero to Stacey and back. “I have some interesting tidbits. I hope no one thinks less of me afterward. It could have that effect.”

Cicero lifted his head higher with indignation.

“Admiral,” Stacey said to her dad again. “Don’t you believe the war effort needs--”

“Please.” Cicero put a hand up to silence her. “Alenko. At the suggestion of the Councilor, I will raise this with the War Committee. Another officer will be elected to recover this mission. However, I will not be excluded from important war discussion. You may accompany me to these Council sessions.”

“It’s a closed session,” Shepard said.

“Not to me,” Cicero said firmly. “I expect you to do what you can, Shepard, to arrange that for me.”

“I’m not doing anything for you.”

“There is another mission quite similar to this one in the Far Rim. The War Committee eagerly awaits the excellent Admiral Alenko to be available again to head it. If your interview doesn’t take up too much of your time, Ms. Shepard, I look forward to you securing me an invitation. I, too, will be going to this closed session council meeting.”

Stacey glanced between Cicero and Shepard with wide eyes.

“Admiral Alenko.” Shepard turned to him. “Shall we go? We’ll have to jog to catch up with the Councilor.”

Kaidan looked over his shoulder at the ship. Crew buzzed around the dock, moving crates down the ramp, consulting each other over datapads, and greeting new members still appearing from the dock entrance.

“Will a new commander be assigned immediately?” Kaidan looked to Cicero. “Do you want me to break down operations?”

“Break it down,” Cicero said. “The Committee will reevaluate its priority in light of the new information about peace talks. I believe that’s what the closed session is about, correct? This mission can wait. We’ll see how things proceed before coming back to it.” 

“Hmm, you know, it’s getting late,” Shepard said absently. “I’ll postpone my interview. We’ll see how things proceed before coming back to it.”

“I need to dismantle preparations,” Kaidan said. “I’ll meet with the Councilor later on about specifics.”

“I can deliver the message,” Stacey said. “I should adjust my schedule and check in with him. If you’ll excuse me, Admirals. Spectre Shepard.” 

Shepard followed Stacey into the hall. She didn’t need the conversation to extend any further with Cicero. She didn’t want to lose any ground she’d gained. She’d hold off telling the media and by extension Cicero’s daughter anything about their affair, but she wasn’t bluffing about being ready to pull the trigger. Unfortunately, Cicero didn’t seem to be bluffing either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week:


	21. Across the Sea*

**CHAPTER 3: Across the Sea**

Shepard’s heart beat in her ears. It drowned out the crash of waves and the cries of seagulls. She was on her knees in the damp sand. Every breath tasted of sea salt. It smelled of a passing storm. Rain still spritzed the air, and the pine canopy dripped. But none of that mattered in this moment. Everything froze. Someone was rushing down the slope toward her. 

Kaidan Alenko.

He was barefoot with the ocean wind pressing black linen pants tight against his legs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His body was toned and sun-kissed into a deep olive brown. His hair wasn’t styled. Rather than looking disheveled, he looked . . . Hell. She couldn’t even describe it. That didn’t erase history though. He was getting closer.

“Are you okay?” he called.

He leaped the last few steps between them and crouched in front of her.

“Did you hit your head?” He reached for her face. 

She reared backward and fell on her hip in the sand. He dropped his hand back to his side with a frown. She scrambled to her feet.

He rose hesitantly. “You’re hurt?”

“I’m not hurt.” 

Her voice surprised her. It came out raspy and cracked. She cleared it and took another step back from him. She put her palm up to prevent him following. 

“I’m fine,” she said again.

His frown deepened. He was as attractive as ever, now she could see him up close: hair, dark and full. There was always so much of it. His jawline had a slight shadow of early morning stubble, and the scar on his lips made her appreciate how soft his mouth looked. Damn, he looked good. So fit too. She tore her eyes up from his chest and looked him straight in the face.

Behind him, a house perched on the cliffside. This had to be his house. He’d come down the slope from that direction. He was barefoot and bare chested. He should be furious with her, threatening to call authorities, and alerting the Alliance she had left base.

“I’m surprised you're not more upset to find me out here,” she said at last.

“Of course, I am. I saw you on the ground. Are you okay?” 

She had deleted his contact information for this very reason. But she’d finally done it. She’d tracked him down to talk to him. She must have gotten herself righteously drunk to do it. She knew he was in Vancouver for the damn trial. How she’d found his house -- how she even knew he had a house -- was a mystery. It was lost to the spirit of the evening past, likely whiskey. He stepped toward her again, but she stepped back.

“Don’t touch me!”

He recoiled like being physically struck. He backed away more steps than necessary.

“You don’t need to force me to go,” she said.

“Go?” He frowned at her then glanced at the house. “Stay out here if you want. I won’t force you to do anything. I was worried about you.”

He seemed genuinely concerned for her physical wellbeing, more so than irate over her invading his space. He was looking at her in a way he hadn’t looked at her for years: clear brown eyes, unguarded and vulnerable. Voice soft. 

“I must have come out here last night.” She folded her arms and clasped her elbows. “I was drinking. Or took something maybe. I was upset.”

“Drinking?” Kaidan’s eyebrows drew tight. “You were upset because of our fight?”

Fight? More like a series of fights. A war. 

“No. I mean, partially.” She felt flustered by him looking at her that way.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant as a judgement. I know you’re not perfect. I wouldn’t want you to be.” 

An apology? Out of the all possible outcomes to her showing up unannounced at his door, that was the last one she expected.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“You’re saying that all the things you disapprove of so violently, you’re suddenly fine with. Just like that?”

“Disapprove of violently?” He said it like a bad taste. “You think that? If I disapprove, I’m disappointed in the decision, not you.”

“Sure felt like it was me.” Shepard set her jaw against the heat welling in her eyes. She had to get out of here. Call another shuttle. “Look. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I know where things stand between us. If I was in my right mind last night, I wouldn’t have rocked the boat.”

“What?” His voice strained. “The way things stand between us?”

“This.” She waved between them. “You know what I mean.”

“Then you . . .” Kaidan dropped his forehead into his fingertips and stared at his feet. “It upset you that much?” 

He seemed genuinely distressed. He was probably still fragile over losing Liara. Shepard had only expected that to make him angrier, not whatever this was. Maybe he really had forgiven her.

“I’m so sorry.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away reflexively. His face snapped up. He searched her eyes frantically. “I messed something up between us?” 

A watery sheen reflected back in his eyes. It made her core go cold. He was hurt. She grabbed his hand. Why he thought he could reach for her hand, she had no idea, but the pain in his expression hit something deep inside her.

“Kaid--” she caught herself. 

She wasn’t sure what to call him. The formal work emails they exchanged had been very clear they were not on a first name basis. She hated anytime she had to correspond with Fleet Admiral Alenko. She took assignments well away from the Terminus System most times to avoid it. His fingers tightened on her hand. With that look in his eye, it felt strange calling him anything else.

“Kaidan,” she said all the way. 

Nothing changed in his eyes, no flash of heat or even surprise. Maybe he needed this reconciliation to counter all the bad. He was lonely. He needed a friend. They’d been good friends once. Best friends. She didn’t have to dig deep to know she wanted the same. 

Life had felt hollow since she lost him. Her bed was warm. She had conversations and laughter across the pillow. She had passion. But in the end, it all felt flat, like reaching for champagne and tasting water. He was here now though. She had thought this version of him dead. If she let it, he seemed sincere in setting things right between them. 

He touched the side of her face, and her breath sharpened. A shocking gesture. Brazen even. Grabbing her hand was one thing, but this . . . His thumb caressed her cheekbone like it used to so long ago. He searched her eyes. Then he leaned down. Shepard’s heart spiked through the roof of her mouth. He brushed her lips. It was a hesitant gesture as if afraid she might stop him. 

“Don’t give up on me.” He rested their foreheads together. “I just need to understand and things can be better.”

Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear him. His kiss left a ghostly echo on her lips. It had been so soft and quick. Hesitant. Afraid. Yet, bold and assuming. Achingly tender. Tender like she’d imagined it for the past twelve years. Her blood rushed, pounding and burning under her skin. All she knew was she wanted more. 

She found his lips again. Wildfire surged in her veins. Need twisted her like real pain. Trembling, she found his face with both hands. Not for an instant did she let their lips part. She ran her fingertips along the grittiness of his jaw. He tasted like minty toothpaste. 

Any second, he’d thrust her away. Regret he ever touched her. Curse at her for misconstruing a simple moment. But instead, he drew her closer. His fingertips lifted the edge of her shirt, and his hand spread across the small of her back. His palm was warm. Their skin sliding together felt so right. So good. Her leg muscles loosen. 

She breathed in the scent of him. It wasn’t so much a concrete smell as feelings anchored to memories she couldn’t explicitly recall. Like a scent forgotten from childhood that passes on the breeze and for one moment you’re home. 

He wanted her now, but maybe it was just grief over Liara. He was lonely, confused, hurt. The trial would still happen. He’d see her for what she was then if he didn’t know already. He’d condemn her with acid words. Turn his back to her. Hate her again as he always had. It would cut deeper than ever before because of this moment. Because of the weak hope he still cared.

His fingers tangled in her hair. The other palm still held her tight against him, and he kissed her deeper and with more passion. It was a move so familiar and tender, she felt lightheaded. This couldn’t really be happening. She had ached too desperately for it for too long. Her body was combusting. She was starting to lose her mind. 

“Kaidan, I . . .” She couldn’t catch her breath. She had an upended, sloshy feeling of standing on moving ground. “What about Liara?”

“What?” His eyes were hazy from the kiss.

“You’ve forgotten about her that fast?” 

“Liara?” Kaidan blinked away the glassiness in his eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened with her. I haven’t forgotten, and maybe I could have handled it better. But we should talk about our issues, not focus on her and me.”

Shepard pulled away from him with a shake of her head. That wasn’t good enough. “What happened with her started this.”

“She may have been the reason for our fight, but it wasn’t really about her, was it?.”

Shepard turned her face into the wind. Was it bigger than Liara? Going back to Cerberus, there was some truth to that. It always came down to his moral superiority and her ability to cut through the dross. He never appreciated how it benefited the greater good. He had disapproved for so long now. Did he really want to make peace?

“Do you really . . .” She choked on the words. “Do you really care about me?”

“What?” He could barely speak.

“After everything . . . I didn’t think . . . You see me as a bad person. You -- you -- you--”

“No.” Kaidan captured her face in his hands. “That’s not true. You may do things differently than I would, but I respect it. I admire you. I’m proud of you. Of course, I care about you. How can you even ask that?”

“Really?” Shepard’s voice broke. Heat spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t think you saw any of the good I did. Thought you -- you --”

Kaidan wiped a thumb across her eyelashes. It left her eyes wet.

“What’s going on?” he whispered. “You’re scaring me. This is something I did?”

No, he’d apologized. She didn't want him to think that. It was the years wasted.

“I love you,” she said.

She hadn’t meant to say it. Her hands froze traveling down his shoulders. Perhaps he hadn’t heard it. He didn’t seem to react. He just smoothed her hair down and held her close. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, breathed him in, and knew it was true. It had been true for a long time.

The familiar touches and soft words -- she wanted to believe he was the same person she’d always loved. From the little she saw of him over the years, she got the coldest, harshest part of him. From a distance, he was the same man, at least, in decisions, principals, and intelligence. From the audio calls she walked in on between him and Admiral Hacket, before he knew she was there, he had the same sense of humor. 

She wrapped her arms around his ribs and buried her face in the warm rhythm of his chest. For once, she didn’t care that her cheeks stuck wetly to his skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried with someone there. Cried with someone there and didn’t try to hide it or feel a swell of shame and fear. But she didn’t feel that way with him now. She felt . . . safe. Like she’d been treading water in a rip tide and finally washed ashore. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arm.

The last time she cried with someone there must have been twelve years ago. It was in Anderson’s apartment, that night by the fire. Kaidan spoke of a future together. Now, here they were by the Pacific just like he’d envisioned them. It made her smile through the tears, but her teeth clenched tight. It had never happened. She’d lost him. She kissed his chest and drew in a ragged breath. She savored the clean cotton and pine smell of him.

“I love you,” she repeated against his chest.

She didn’t care if he heard it. She wanted him to hear it. She should have said it back then. By Illium, it was too late. She regretted it for so long already. She knew he’d hate her if she ever said it to him again after what happened on Illium, but now, he only held her tighter.

“I love you too,” he whispered into her hair.

She squeezed her eyes shut and cried.

***

Her tears slowed, and she focused on the warm hand stroking up and down her arm. She repeated their conversation in her head. It was like waking up on the other side of a rainbow. She had gotten dropped off by a shuttle, probably drunk after leaving Cicero’s and then being thrown out of some bar in the early morning. She must have passed out in the sand before making it to his door. Then he’d seen her from his window. 

What wasn’t clear was how she ended up here: wrapped in his arms; taking slow, wet, gasping breaths against his chest; hearing he loved her; and almost against her will, saying it to him. Liara was only a few months gone. Perhaps he meant he loved Shepard in a broader way. They had a familial bond born of history and mutual caring. 

Kaidan’s breath tickled her forehead. “You don’t really think I don’t care about you? It was just a fight.”

He wouldn’t be holding her right now if Liara was here. He was vulnerable. Fragile. The thought made her stomach turn. She’d sworn she’d never use him like that again. This was too much to process. 

She pulled her face back. “Kaidan, we should talk about this, but right now . . .”

“I care about you more than anything.” He touched her cheek softly.

More than anything? He was exaggerating their frail connection because of the grief. But maybe not . . . His eyes were so earnest. He seemed composed, not overwrought. It was all coming so fast. 

“Kaidan . . .” 

“All right. Later then.” He glanced up at the house then back down at her. “Let’s go up.”

Shepard rubbed her face with the back of her hand. He gave her forehead a lingering kiss then grabbed her hand. Something caught his attention over her shoulder. He frowned, cocking his head slightly, and pulled her with him. He picked up a water-logged leather satchel. It scattered sand as he turned it in his hand.

“Is this what you came out here for?” he asked.

Shepard frowned at it. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“You must have dropped it,” he said and tugged her up the slope toward the house.

“It’s not mine,” Shepard murmured, but her attention was consumed by the house.

Liara had money. She was the Shadow Broker, but still, for not being a primary residence, the house was enormous. The wrapping decks over the ocean flashed her back to that night in Anderson’s apartment. Kaidan spoke of their future. Had Liara and Kaidan rolled up their pant legs and walked in the surf, gone skinny dipping, and made love in a hot shower while washing off the sea salt? That’s what he’d wished for with Shepard. So much lost time. 

He was happy to see her now though. Who knew what could happen? Her fingers tightened on his hand, and he grinned softly back at her.

“You’re all right?” he said softly.

She nodded. They neared the door, and he handed her the satchel. With a sigh, she took it.

“I don’t know why you don’t think it’s yours.” He shook his head with a frowning laugh. “Open it. It’s going to have your report. Whether your datapad works after the rain . . . I’ll look at it later. I can fix it.”

She followed him slowly into the house and paused in the entryway. It smelled like vanilla and cotton. The glass walls ahead of her lent the house a gray brightness, even though the lights were off.

“I think she’s still asleep,” Kaidan whispered and wiped his bare feet on the entryway mat.

“Oh.” Shepard’s mouth went dry.

She hadn’t thought of that. Liara and Kaidan had a daughter. She had to be three, maybe four, now.

Shepard dropped the sandy satchel by the door. For the first time, she noticed the leather sandals on her feet. She stepped out of them with a frown. When had she painted her toenails? She didn’t have time for pedicures, but she also hadn’t painted them herself. They were french tipped. What salon could she have used in the middle of the night?

Kaidan went ahead of her and already down the hall. Shepard’s eyes skimmed over on the pictures on the wall. Her feet caught. Her pulse quickened. It was a smiling portrait of herself. Her hair was longer, redder, her makeup too perfect, as if someone else had done it for her. Her teeth were too white to be natural, and her arms didn’t look as toned. But it wasn’t her own image that made her throat constrict. It was Kaidan’s arm around her, beaming, looking younger, and a child in his arms. A little girl, a toddler with dark hair and dark eyes, olive skin, just like him. 

“Hey, you’re up,” Kaidan said.

“Mom!”

Something smacked into her chest and gripped her waist. The black eyes from the picture stared up at Shepard. The girl was older now. Her face was level with Shepard’s breasts. She was seven or eight maybe. Shepard wasn’t good with estimating ages. 

“Hey, mom,” the girl repeated and squeezed her tighter.

Shepard lifted her eyes to Kaidan. He smiled, and her heart dropped. What the hell was going on?

***

Shepard rushed down the hall into the back bedroom. It looked like the master bedroom with dressers and a large unmade bed. Kaidan’s room. Something dropped in the kitchen behind her. The girl’s voice laughed.

“Careful,” Kaidan said in the distance. “Don’t touch it while it heats up.”

“I know, Dad. I’ve done this a million times.”

“Yeah? Look a little skinny for eating a million waffles.”

“I’m joking. Obviously.”

“About knowing what you’re doing?”

“Dad!”

Shepard rushed into the closet and flicked on the light. Men’s clothing lined the right side. She spun to the left. This is what she needed to see. She tore through the hangers: gowns, cocktail dresses, dress pants, blouses. In a line on the floor stood: stilettos, high-heeled boots, expensive name brand running shoes. Shepard ran her hands over them. She tried on the running shoe. It fit. She threw it off.

The dresser was more of the same. She paused on the top drawer with its lacy underwear. Lingerie was folded in the back. Shepard didn’t own lingerie. She didn’t have ball gowns and strappy designer high heels. None of this was anything she owned, but it didn’t look like Liara’s either. There wasn’t a single thing that looked asari. The idea that this was Liara’s lingerie . . . She shuddered and slammed the top drawer shut. Her hands paused on a worn sweatshirt in the second drawer. She pulled it out. It unfolded from her hands. An N7 logo stared back at her. 

“Mom! How many waffles do you want?” a voice called.

The sweatshirt dropped from her fingertips. She covered her mouth and stared around the room. A beta fish swam around a cylindrical fish bowl on the bed’s left nightstand. Some half-assembled Omni-Tool mods sat on the right nightstand. Somehow this room was their’s: her and Kaidan. She lifted her left hand up to the morning light. Her breath caught. A diamond. _That_ finger on her left hand. It had a diamond solitaire. So traditional and human. Just the sort of thing that reminded her of Kaidan.

“Hey.” 

She jumped at his voice. She snapped around to face him. He stood in the bedroom doorway with a slight frown.

“Are you really all right?”

“Two.”

“What?” he said.

“That’s what you came to ask, right? Waffles. I’ll take two.”

“Uh, okay.” He pushed away from the doorframe. “You’re really--”

“I’m going to take a shower.”

She rushed to the bathroom and shut the door. Her reflection in the medicine cabinet made her eyes expand. She stepped closer and touched her face and hair. Her hair was tied in a knot at the back of her neck. It was a bright, vibrant red, almost like her natural color, if it wasn’t actually her natural hair color. She pulled out the rubber band, and it fell around her shoulders. It was longer. 

She stared close into the mirror. Her teeth actually were that damned white, just like the picture. That scar from Triton was gone, the one that went along her jaw. Her eyebrows were groomed, eyelashes enhanced, and her skin looked like a commercial for some miracle skin product.

She tore off her clothes and tossed them against the wall. The scars from that batarian mercenary on Illium, the slaver’s ambush on Sanctum, the cave in on the moon orbiting Sur’Kesh: they were all gone. The older ones were still there but nothing new, nothing from -- who knew -- too many years to count. Her fingers paused on her stomach. Stretchmarks, faint and white. Her fingertips traced a C-section scar across her abdomen. With a hard swallow, she looked up at her reflection.

She was caught in a delusion or drug dream or something. Maybe in the real world something had been laced in the drink Cicero gave her. She had downloaded his data on a chip. Maybe he knew. She could still smell the alcohol and sandalwood. She could taste his sweat on her lips. He had pinned her against the sharp edge of the kitchen counter. She’d slammed him against the wall. Clawing fingernails, rough mouths, clothes literally tearing, cursing and moaning. Underneath all the animal fire, his touch was so precise. She never felt good afterward. Only more lost. More alone. Worse than being unloved, she was unlovable.

She fell against the wall and grabbed the towel rack by her face. The ring on her finger flashed at the corner of her eye. She turned it around on her finger. A smile tickled on her lips. She turned blurry eyes to the marble shower. A window cracked open high above let in the sound of surf and smell of brine. Seagulls cried. Wet saltiness flavored her growing smile. She moved into the shower and turned the water up as hot as it would go, until it burned her skin. If she was dreaming, she hoped she never woke up.

***

They strolled along the surf hand in hand. Avyn -- that was her name, apparently -- ran ahead of them with her short black hair lifting in the wind. Blue energy danced over her body. The girl was a biotic, a shock Sheprad had only discovered minutes ago. 

Avyn threw a beach ball at them with a flash of light. Kaidan pulled his hand from Shepard’s fingers and threw a wave of biotic energy at it. The ball rebounded back at Avyn. It soared over her head and sent her running down the beach after it. 

“She’ll pop it. Fifteen minutes tops.” Kaidan grinned over at Shepard. “Got your brute force. Not enough finesse.”

The ball came flying back at them in a streak of blue energy. Kaidan put his palm out, and the ball ricocheted the other direction. Biotic light wisped across his skin. It had been a long time since she felt Kaidan’s biotics. The hairs lifted up the back of her neck. 

“Who’s really going to pop it? You or her?” Shepard asked. She couldn’t stop grinning.

“Cut you in, we’d be lucky to get five minutes out of it.”

Kaidan let the ball almost reach them before slamming it back at Avyn. Avyn scattered seagulls running backward for it. The afternoon sun warmed Shepard’s shoulders against the slight chill of the ocean breeze.

“Really think my biotics are that brutish, huh?” Shepard pulled strands of hair out of her face. “Some things never change.”

“I could be using a nail bat, you’d still pop it first.”

Shepard shoved him sideways, but he didn’t stumble as she hoped. He pushed her back playfully and hit the incoming ball back at Avyn.

Kaidan turned a sly smile on her. “You’d lob that ball so far over the ocean, it’d probably hit a Russian in the head and _then_ pop.”

“Kaidan!” Shepard laughed incredulously. 

He was trash talking her. He was actually trash talking her. It had been years since he playfully tried to provoke her over some arbitrary challenge. No one teased her this way. Tautum was too saccharine. Cicero too acerbic. Kaidan was . . . Kaidan was just right. Not too sweet, not too sour. He had the earnest kindness of Tautum. The sharp mind and determination of Cicero. Neither of them had his witty playfulness.

Shepard used both hands and put some muscle into it this time. Kaidan stumbled into the foamy wave washing up the sand. He barely managed to return Avyn’s ball. Shepard used the distraction to drive him even further into the water. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him. She dug her feet into the sand, resisting, but then he grabbed her elbow with his other hand. He stepped backward pulling her into the chilly water.

“Dad!”

The ball was coming. Shepard twisted enough to hit it with dark energy from her free hand. It soared back to Avyn.

“See!” Shepard said. “Didn’t pop.”

Kaidan scooped her up under the knees.

“Are you putting me in the water?” Shepard said.

“Ball,” Kaidan warned.

Shepard batted at it. It went long. Avyn was already running down the shore in anticipation and watched for it over her shoulder. The cold water made Shepard gasp as she landed waist deep into the ocean.

“Seriously?” Shepard flicked water at him.

To be fair, he was hip dip in the water next to her.

“You’re like a ten year old boy.”

Kaidan just laughed and shrugged. “If I was ten, I would have dunked you. See the adulthood restraint.”

The ball caught in the side of Shepard’s vision. Kaidan turned too. Both flared blue. The ball popped. Its skin fluttered into the water.

“What? No!” Avyn yelled. “I liked that one.”

“You have ten more at home.” Kaidan watched Avyn sprint toward them.

Shepard came behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She raised onto the balls of her feet and brushed her lips against his ear. “See. Told you, you’d pop it. I was doing just fine.”

“I think it was our combination.”

He flicked the deflated ball onto the beach with his biotics. Avyn rushed into the surf toward them.

“I want to swim too.”

“Come on then.” Kaidan looked over his shoulder at Shepard. “I kind of want to say ‘go put on your swimsuit.’ Afraid she’d call me a hypocrite.”

“Sure she even knows what that means?”

“Are you kidding? It’s her favorite word.” Kaidan gave Shepard a funny look then turned to Avyn. She was already up to her waist in the waves. “Wait, Avyn. You need to put your suit on first.”

“What?” Avyn stopped dead and pointed at them. “Those aren’t swimming suits.”

“No, we just want you in one.”

Her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes went to Shepard. It gave Shepard a shiver the way the girl looked at her. She felt like an imposter.

“Mom . . .”

“Listen to your dad.” That seemed like the thing to say.

“You guys are such hypocrites.”

Kaidan grinned triumphantly at Shepard. Avyn trudged back to the beach. For a moment Shepard felt relieved. She reached out to Kaidan, but he was already stepping after Avyn.

“Avyn, hey.”

“What?” she said, barely glancing back at him.

“Apologize and have a better attitude, and you can swim in your clothes.”

She snapped around, standing shin-deep in the water. 

“I’m sorry you’re hypocrites,” she said brightly and charged back into the water.

“No.” Kaidan moved sideways to block her path. “That’s the opposite of an apology.” 

“Uh, just joking. Sorry I pointed out you were hypocrites.”

Kaidan folded his arms. “You’re cleaning your room later. What else do you have to say?”

Avyn slouched. “Sorry for having a bad attitude.”

Kaidan stepped out of her way. She passed, and he smirked fondly at her retreating back. 

“You’re still cleaning your room,” he said.

“Okay.” Avyn came through the water toward Shepard. “If you called me a hypocrite, I couldn’t make you apologize. Even this is hypocritical.”

Shepard laughed incredulously.

“Pretty big word for a . . .” She didn’t know her age. “Kid.”

“Eight, mom,” Avyn said with an eyeroll.

“Be nice.” Kaidan came up behind her and fluffed her hair. “Do you know how old your mom is? Now, who’s being hypocritical.”

Avyn looked up at him with a spreading grin. “Good one, Dad.”

“You’re so much trouble.” He laughed, mussing her hair, and pushing her off into the water.

She stroked out into the waves with gleeful splashes. Shepard almost went after her, but Kaidan wasn’t following Avyn out any deeper. He didn’t seem worried. It occurred to her they were both biotics. They could pull Avyn back at any point if they needed. Kaidan’s eyes stayed on Avyn as she drove dove in and out of waves and back floated further out. She was a much better swimmer than Shepard. 

Kaidan took Shepard’s hand off her hip and interlocked their fingers. The sideways smile he gave made her cheeks flush. Her heart sped up. He turned his attention back to Avyn, but Shepard couldn’t take her eyes off his profile. This was unbelievable.

***

Avyn ran dripping into the house with slapping footsteps. The front door shut behind them. Kaidan touched her arm as he passed by. Her eyes followed him. The wet T-shirt clung to the hard lines of his back. Her eyes dropped lower just as he rounded the corner. When was Avyn’s bedtime?

They had made waffles for breakfast, eaten sandwiches on a log of driftwood, played by the ocean all afternoon. Dinner would be soon. The sun hung low in the sky. 

Shepard turned the hallway corner and watched Kaidan. He stood in the doorway to Avyn’s room saying something. Shepard’s eyes traveled over him again. She hung on his every move. He pointed into Avyn’s room and then offered her a broom. The lean, strong muscles in his legs; the chiseled beauty of his biceps; that jaw, smoky and rough with evening stubble. Yes, let dinner be fast. She was ready for dessert.

***

Shepard scraped the rest of Avyn’s potato peels into the garbage. She threw the steak bones after it and put the plates in the dishwasher. A warm, salty breeze came from the open glass slider in the dining room. The sun was starting to turn crimson pink over the ocean. It blinded her through the kitchen window as she set the last cup in the dishwasher.

She was being quite domestic. For a woman who could count on one hand the number of homemade meals she’d made, yes, this was quite domestic. She had only needed one minute in the bedroom with her Omni-Tool to come back out and help Kaidan with the baked potatoes. He’d looked at her funny as she dug around the cabinets looking for tinfoil.

“You want to use tinfoil?” he’d asked.

“Uh . . . yep. Trying something new”

“Okay . . .”

He’d finally had to dig it out for her with a frown and laugh. Who the hell kept tinfoil in the back of a drawer behind a bunch of plastic sacks?

“She’s in bed,” Kaidan whispered, coming from the hallway.

He picked his wine glass off the dining table. He stood on the side of the kitchen counter and watched her.

“Trying a new dish loading plan?” he asked with a smirk.

“What?” She backed up to look at it.

He pointed with his wineglass at the top rack. “Laying plates flat on top takes a lot more room than the slots on the bottom.”

Shepard shrugged and closed the door with her bare foot. She pushed the start button and pivoted back to him. “You’ll be apologizing when you see how sparkly they are.”

“I won’t be able to find my steak on the plate I’ll be so blinded.” He picked up the wine bottle and poured some more into his glass.

Her glass was still on the dining table. She rounded the kitchen counter, but Kaidan caught her by the hip.

“Are you really all right?” he asked. “I’m worried about you.”

“Stop worrying. Open your mind to the dishwasher loading possibilities.”

She almost broke out from his hand to get her wine glass, but she couldn’t make herself move away from his touch. Instead, she turned into him and stepped closer. He brushed hair back from her temple and twisted his lips to the side with a sigh.

“All right. You know you can talk to me, though, right?” He curled the hair back behind her ear and met her eyes. There was something deep and searching, maybe even uncertain in his eyes. “You’re not bothering me or rocking the boat. You said something about how things stand between us. What does that mean?”

She held his eyes and could feel the change in his breathing, strained and controlled as he waited for her answer.

“Kaidan.” She took the glass out of his hand and set it on the counter. She cupped his face with her hands. It was surreal having his face in her hands again, breathing his breath, seeing that look in his eyes, soft and longing. She could finally talk to him, talk to him like they used to talk, instead of cold formality across group comm meetings. She could joke with him, laugh with him, and more. Whatever she wanted. He was here, and he was hers. 

She didn’t know what was happening. All day she stubbornly refused to care. Now that she held him, her heart beating in her throat, and she felt a shadow fall over them. He thought she was someone else. She was Shepard, but she didn’t have any memories of this place. Maybe none of it was real, but she wanted it to be.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I don’t want something between us. Tell me how to fix it.”

Her heart twisted. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him down by the back of the head. She kissed him. His hands lifted to hold her face, and he opened his mouth. A shiver prickled down her back. She pressed him against the counter. Her fingertips lifted the edge of his shirt and ran greedily across the smooth flesh around his waist and then up the lines of his back. 

Their kiss broke enough for her to pull the T-shirt over his head. She moved her mouth to the soft skin under his jaw. He made a sound in the back of his throat as her hands traveled lower.

“Maybe, uh.” He swallowed as her lips drew down his throat. “Uh, maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

Shepard laughed lightly against his skin. She drew the tip of her tongue up his chin. 

“Okay.” She grinned.

She grabbed his hand and yanked him down the hall. He tugged her to a stop long enough to look through the slot of Avyn’s doorway. He turned off the hall light and followed Shepard into the bedroom. The door swished shut, and he turned toward her. She pinned him to the closed door.

“Not to, uh, throw things off. I’m all for this,” he said, kissing her back then breaking it again. “I have to know though--”

“There’s nothing wrong. Nothing between us.” She pulled her tank top over her head and threw it across the room..

“Why’d you say--”

“I hit my head falling down. I was confused.”

“You hit your head?”

It was the wrong thing to say. He edged her back a step and pulled up the screen on his Omni-Tool. She knew the medic look in his eye. She pulled his hand away and clicked off his Omni-Tool.

“I’m fine.”

“If you had a head injury severe enough to make you confused, you’re not fine. Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you.”

“Kaidan.” She grabbed his face. “I’ll only let you play medic if you start helping me along with this. I had to take off my own shirt. I have,” she looked down, “three other articles of clothing. Which one do you want to help me with?”

“I want to scan your head.”

“Nontraditional foreplay, but fine. If that’s what you need.”

“Okay.” He turned his Omni-Tool back on.

She put her hands on her hips with a sigh and eyed him. He brought up a program on his Omni-Tool and then scanned over her. He caught her eye and looked away sharply. The look on her face must read pretty clearly how she felt. The screen lit his features as he scrolled through some images, and unsatisfied, scanned her again. She gave a drawn out sigh.

“I just want to make sure,” he said.

He leaned back against the wall. The mirror on the wall showed a loading screen as the images processed. Shepard exhaled another long breath and flopped back on the bed.

She stared up at the ceiling. “You’re always so hard to get into bed.”

“What?” he said. “You’re still confused from hitting your head.”

“Always had to have a little chat or cuddle first.” 

He came over to the bed and looked down at her.

“Scan all clear?” she asked lazily.

“Couldn’t find anything wrong. That biotic reading from the Shard is gone, too, by the way.”

That didn’t mean anything, and she didn’t care.

“Well?” She drummed her fingertips on her bare stomach.

“I want my chat and cuddle first.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know where you got that. The tinfoil, the dishwasher, can’t remember Avyn’s age . . .”

Shepard bounced onto her knees and pulled him down on the bed. She didn’t want his mind going down that path. She ran her fingers up his chest and pressed their mouths together. His breathing hitched, and she was pretty sure his mind was only going one direction. The direction she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But more on that later . . ." ;)


	22. Steerage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the fantastic artwork, [Crqstalite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crqstalite/pseuds/crqstalite)! It's absolutely beautiful! If you love her art, you'll love her stories too. Check out her fic and art: [Crqstalite’s AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crqstalite/pseuds/crqstalite) and [Crqstalite’s Tumblr](https://crqstalite.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ****Content Warning: See end notes for specifics

**CHAPTER 4: Steerage**

The civilian passenger ship headed to Thessia was tight and narrow. It smelled like bodies. Cubbies, the size of coffins, stacked the walls like family crypts with individual openings. Kaidan couldn’t still be asleep. He’d been inside his nook since they boarded. He had to be reading or something. Shepard itched to give his pod door a good rapping with her knuckles and shake him out of there. But she didn’t want to lose the goodwill she’d scraped to save up. 

Wilson had agreed to a peace meeting in Illium set for a little over a week. Shepard and Kaidan would be accompanying Councilor Tevos from Thessia to Illium. They had enough time to travel and get their task done on Thessia first. After they had the Red DataKey from the Thessian bank, they’d be in Illium where they could spend their off time hunting down a source to contact the new broker.

Shepard meandered through the ship’s dining hall with her datapad. Empty dinner dishes, crumb-laden trays, and half-eaten rolls littered the tables. A group of humans crowded around a side table drinking stale-smelling coffee and playing cards. The lounge must be full again. The evening was coming to a close. All the more reason to disapprove of Kaidan’s all-day seclusion.

The people at the card table side-eyed her and whispered. Some of the players who had been too absorbed in the game to look initially were elbowed. Then they, too, stared. A civilian transport wasn’t ideal for two people as well-known as she and Kaidan, but Kaidan was off duty. She was permanently off duty. They hadn’t had many options. 

Kaidan was more recognizable than her, she was coming to realize. Perhaps it was her black bob-cut or perhaps Kaidan had just had more limelight the last ten years. From the snears and narrow-eyed murmuring that followed him, it wasn’t a positively received celebrity sighting by most. Perhaps it’s why he had hidden away. No one had been so bold as to approach them or say anything openly to him, but there was the undeniable weight of dozens of eyes when he walked onboard.

Shepard looped around the corner of the dining hall. A small pocket by the porthole had a couple of chairs and some sort of stringy-looking plant. It’s entire life looked like borrowed time. It had to be some off-world plant to survive this fake lighting, stale air, and the undoubtedly generous soda pop feedings. It’s leaves were colored with red and orange markers. Shepard took a seat by the window, leaned her chin on her fist, and let her vision unfocus on the stars.

When she and Kaidan married, he hadn’t thought she’d be happy on Earth. Her wanderlust would overwhelm her idyllic notion of a home. She still loved space. She always would, but she got enough of it living part of the time aboard the Citadel, traveling on galactic tours, and visiting forgein states. She hadn’t grown tired of watching crashing waves, bits of sand in her hair, and the warmth of sunshine on her skin.She could still taste the brine in her teeth. She hadn’t grown tired of Kaidan’s arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind, his lips at her ear, her back warm against his solid chest. She loved Home for being a part of him. For being a part of Avyn.

“Shepard.”

Shepard jolted.

“Sorry.” Kaidan came around the corner with his palms up.

“Clawed your way out of the ground. Back with the living?” Shepard rested back in her seat.

“Had a headache.” He strolled to the wall opposite her and leaned back.

His hair stood on end, frazzled, eyes a little rheumy, cheeks pale. He looked more like someone needing to go to bed than someone who just got up.

“Do you still have a migraine?” Shepard asked.

“It’s better,” Kaidan said.

By the time he’d dismantled the Far Rim operation, she’d already booked them a flight. It had been late at night when they disembarked. Now she remembered it, Kaidan had been rubbing his temple. It was surprising she hadn’t recognized the signs. Here, Kaidan seemed to have more frequent migraines and worse. He’d gone straight to his bed.

“Are you hurt?” Kaidan squinted at a bandaid on her upper arm.

“Tyricol-eluting drug implant. Now we match. Miranda put it in before I left.”

“The biotic neural damage?” Kaidan remembered. “Do you know how it happened?”

“It’s unclear.” Shepard crossed her legs, placing her datapad on her knee. “Miranda knew about it. Said I never qualified for an implant. The damage was progresssive. Erratic. Started years ago. I didn't seem surprised by the news when she told me. I wouldn’t own up to a cause, but Miranda’s sure there was one.”

“Now you’ve stabilized.” Kaidan indicated her implant. 

“A few months before the switch up, I stabilized. Whatever was causing the deterioration stopped.”

“With meds you’re completely fine?”

“Eventually, the Tyricol won’t be enough. My body will get used to it. There are some second-line treatments, but they’re poor. I’ll likely die young, but that’s still decades from now. What about you? What caused yours?”

“Just happened,” Kaidan said briskly. 

Shepard waited, but he didn’t elaborate. Shepard sighed.

“Ah. Well, okay.” She turned her attention back to the window.

“It was a few months ago.” Kaidan shifted against the wall. Guilt over the disparity in disclosure perhaps. “It really did just happen. It wasn’t there, and then it was. It’s always been stable. With the implant, it feels more theoretical. It doesn’t sound as advanced as yours, but I’ve been told the same thing. Not early death, but the symptoms breaking through. Eventually.”

Shepard smiled fondly at his reflection in the glass. “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

Kaidan eyed the datapad balancing on her knee. “What are you working on?” 

“This? Strategizing how to win our peace talks.”

“Didn’t know it came in a step by step.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“All right.” He pushed off the wall with a slight cringe from moving his head. He lowered himself beside her onto a chair with a deliberate gentleness. “What have you got?”

Shepard lowered the brightness setting on the screen and handed the datapad to him. “Step one: Ilk. The only thing he cares about is relevant and actionable data. Facts, numbers, data points. He wants statistics and projection, but more than that, you have to be able to talk in circles with him about it. You must understand confidence intervals, hazard ratios, probability coefficients, identify contributing factors to decrease the unknown. His favorite thing is to point out that correlation is not causation. Point it out before him. Be skeptical, then he has to be the one to defend the possible implications. 

“Out of appreciation for playing with him in the data, you’ll earn weight. The more everyone else glazes over, becomes impatient, the better the foil they become to you. Your interest and dedication to exposing the ‘true answer’ will make him feel secure that all the facts have been properly explored. Then you can draw connections he may initially have bulked at, but he’ll support you.”

Kaidan scrolled through the charts and equations. “Hope you’re right. Looks like a lot of calculators lost their lives getting you this data.”

“Lit a candle for every one.”

“Let’s hope their sacrifice is worth it.” He pushed the datapad back at her. “What’s step two?”

“Step two: Tevos.” Shepard switched off the datapad, and Kaidan’s squinting eased.

“Tevos? What’s your mystery weapon for her?”

“Tevos is reasonable, compassionate. Mostly. At the heart of everything, though, is always the asari and Thessia. You tease out from any discussion how it affects the asari, you’ll get her attention. Sparatus will get annoyed. Always knows what I’m doing, but it’s what she cares about. It’s worth some focus. His attempts to change the topic and Ilk’s apathy will only sway her more to your side. It works even when your arguments about the benefits to the asari are really generalizable to any race. Even if the benefit is conditional or unlikely. Just that you care about it -- her, her people, what she has to say -- you’ll win her over. Doesn’t hurt to discuss asari politics, current events, and culture with her in between sessions. It’s good to mix with mutual friends at asari social events. Just keep it on the down low around Sparatus.”

“Step three is Sparatus?”

“See. Ilk is going to love you. Natural pattern recognition. This will be the perfect time to strut out your fancy vocabulary, too, by the way. For Ilk. He’ll appreciate you taking for granted his intelligence and enjoy talking to you above the others’ understanding.”

Kaidan grinned tiredly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Step three, as you suspected: Sparatus. He’s harder to pin down. Sometimes he’ll be contrary, just to be contrary. Switch arguments along with him, compete for devil’s advocate. Extend his points with digging questions, and you can catch him out in it. Rattle him enough, he’ll start arguing your side of things. Just make sure everything you say is concise and direct. He hates the perception of wasted time.”

“Huh.” Kaidan folded his hands under his arms and rested back in the chair. “Chasing your tail in an argument sounds like the definition of wasted time.”

“Not to him. Just make your points brief and hard hitters. Also, he’s a good turian. Doesn’t hurt to emphasize service, duty, honor, loyalty. Throw in keywords and emphasize those concepts.”

“And Wilson? Step four.”

“Wilson I’m less sure. I haven’t dealt with him as much in that context.”

Kaidan frowned. “You knew the others.”

Shepard interlocked her fingers at her waist and squinted at the blank wall in front of her. “Wilson. From what I know, I’d say you need to make Wilson feel in control. He cares about structure, rules, hierarchy, very black and white, detailed. Go quiet when he speaks. Always bring discussions back to him for comment. Agree with his points, even minor ones, so you can disagree with larger ones later on. When you do disagree, soak it in respect and humility, but only what’s genuine. Always be genuine, honest, forthright and direct. Appeal to his experience, intelligence, moral code. Lead him by timid questions to make his own conclusion for what you want to suggest. I don’t know if that’s all possible. I’ve hardly worked with him that way. I couldn’t get away with all of that, he’d see through me, but you? You’re a lot cause with Wilson, true, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“I’m a lost cause?”

“With Wilson? Definitely. Eternally blacklisted, I’m afraid.”

“Wondered why I never got a Christmas card.”

“Wilson’s Christmas card?” Shepard grinned. “Hmm. I see a corduroy dinner jacket, blazing hearth in the background, hand in his pocket, swirling a glass of ‘39 Novak sherry.”

“A Warm Councilor’s Greeting to You and Yours?” Kaidan read.

“Exactly. All we have left after getting the councilors nailed down is worrying about Wrex and Cicero. Wrex needs a good reality check now and then, but he’s Wrex. Cicero though . . .”

“Don’t you hate a party crasher?”

“The friend-murdering kind? Sure do.”

Kaidan smiled grimly. “Yeah, about that, Shepard. Thanks. I, uh . . . I didn’t know what to do.”

“You rallied Wilson to save me once. Least I could do is return the favor.”

“Hardly.” Kaidan’s teeth gleamed in his smile. “I only saved you from an orange jumpsuit and napping in a cell. You saved me from . . . worse.”

“You’re wrong.” Shepard looked down at her hands. “If I was in prison, missed the window to go home, it may as well have been . . . worse. It wouldn’t have mattered.”

Seriousness deepened in Kaidan’s eyes. “How do you know so much about the councilors?”

“The Omni-blade in my back wasn’t bad luck, like I’ve said before. I got the Councilors and Wrex to agree to peace talks, but I couldn’t catch a blade swinging behind me. It’s been eight years since I was in real combat.”

“You mentioned that before. I can’t see you walking away. Were you injured?”

“Injured? No.” Shepard flashed a quick smile. “I was offered the Councilor’s seat.”

“The Councilor’s seat? You were offered the same here.” He sat forward. “You took it?”

“I did.” She lifted her chin and felt the grin stretching on her lips. “Almost eight years now. I know how to work with Ilk and Tevos and Sparatus because I do it every day.”

Kaidan’s eyes intensified on her face “And Wilson?”

“Fleet Admiral of Sol. If he really did send Christmas cards, I’d probably have one on my refrigerator.”

“Friends with Wilson? Hard to imagine.”

“But you can imagine the rest of it?”

“Still seems far fetched, but I can play along with it. For a bit.”

“Seems like you’re risking a lot for just playing along.” Shepard folded her arms, but not without holding a smile.

“Miranda believes it. That means something.” Kaidan concentrated on the floor with a frown. “I suppose it’s not impossible.”

“Jacob told me I’d make a terrible councilor.” The memory tainted her smile. “Maybe that’s asking you to follow me too far down the rabbit hole?”

“That’s not it. I always thought you’d make a great councilor. I wished you’d taken the alternate spot at the Vancouver Summit.”

Blood quickened under her skin. Another point of divergence. If she only understood where the point was and why it split. It might not get her closer to home, but she needed to know. Kaidan chose Liara instead of her. He had created two timelines at some point around the time of the Vancouver Summit. But when exactly? Shepard opened her mouth, but Kaidan spoke again.

“I was in the Terminus System, still waiting on the relay to be fixed, when you told me over comm they’d offered you the spot. You seemed . . .” Kaidan’s eyes grew distant. He laughed grimly. “You seemed almost insulted. As if they’d invited you to a knitting circle or something. I didn’t think you wanted my opinion, so I didn’t give it. But, no, I always thought you’d be the one to get the Council back on its feet again, get things done, the right things. Or, at least, at that point I did.”

Shepard’s mind was still shuffling around the possibilities. The Vancouver Summit was before the memory where he made his pre-deployment confession about Liara. The night before the Summit was when he recommended she take the alternate spot. Perhaps her refusing his suggestion had driven him away. Only, it seemed too minor.

Kaidan watched her with a slight frown. “Don’t worry about Jacob, Shepard.” He must have misunderstood her strained demeanor. “Jacob doesn’t know you like I . . . Well, I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in his opinion.”

“Kaidan.” Shepard twisted to fully face him. “Were you disappointed I wasn’t alternate for the councilor position at the Summit?”

Kaidan gave a limp shrug. “A little maybe. If you’d asked, I would have encouraged you to think it over more. You snapped your answer out so fast at that meeting, the one after the Terra Firma operation. You didn’t even entertain it.”

“Come on.” Shepard stifled a smirk. “You think I couldn’t read between the lines during your pep talk? The whole ‘stop sleeping in the back row, find that purpose again, it may not be where you expect’?”

A line creased between Kaidan’s eyes, but he laughed. “What?”

“After that Terra Firma meeting. At the Summit stage. I found you there in the middle of the night. We talked.”

“Oh. That.” Kaidan examined the calluses on his hands. “I regretted that a long time. Wished . . . I don’t know.” He sat up suddenly, almost resolutely. “It was a long time ago. Surprised you remember it.”

Shepard studied him for a long moment. He fidgeted with the shaggy plant tickling his neck.

“I don’t know if we do remember it the same,” Shepard said finally. “Our conversation was a little rocky at the start, but by the time we went to my barracks for food . . .”

“We never went anywhere for food.” Kaidan gave the plant a rough shove. It teetered in its pot then clapped back down on the floor.

“We never left to eat? And you never gave me that pep talk? But, you said you remember the meeting before that, and you remember me finding you at the stage.” Shepard thought aloud. “What do you remember of it, Kaidan?”

He gave a weary sigh, checked his Omni-Tool -- probably the time -- and rested his head back on the wall. “I don’t know. It was a long time ago.”

“You remembered it clearly enough a minute ago.”

“I don’t want to dredge all this up again.”

Shepard paused what she was about to say. He gazed at her solemnly, expression soft, but removed.

“One question then. Can I ask one question? Did I stop you leaving the auditorium? When we argued by the stage. You said you had enough and left. Did I stop you?”

“You belittled how I felt. You weren’t being honest with me.”

“And you walked toward the door,” Shepard pressed. “Did I stop you?”

“I left. Can we talk about something else?”

“It’s all right.” Shepard melted back into her seat. Her heart pounded. “I think that’s where the divergence happened. Your timeline and mine. The early morning of the Summit. A choice was made differently. It’s the focal point of our timeline splitting different directions. For you, for me, my time, this time, it comes back to that moment.”

His eyes unfocused on the porthole over her shoulder. “It doesn’t really matter in the end, does it?”

“I guess . . .” Shepard folded her hands in her lap. “No, I guess not.”

“Only forward, no looking back.” Kaidan’s eyes shifted to her face. “You taught me that.”

“I have been a proponent of that,” Shepard allowed. “But sometimes it’s good to remember the past.”

“Sometimes not.” He stood. “I”m going to eat something. I’ll catch you around.”

He turned the corner out of sight. All this time she thought Kaidan made the choice that divided the timeline. He’d chosen Liara over her. Now she knew the truth of it: it wasn’t Kaidan, it was her. She hadn’t gone after him. She let him leave. She never told him how she felt. They never talked honestly. Somehow he’d ended up with Liara, but it had been her choice all along that caused it. 

Shepard rubbed her arms, all of a sudden chilly in the cool ship air. She looked out the porthole at space and it struck her They were by the Summit stage. Rebecca said the split occurred with biotics and proximity to a Mass Effect Shard. They had been right next to it, both of them biotics, and Shepard had been watching him leave: a decision.  _ If I let him leave . . .  _ She had thought it, but in this timeline, she’s stayed still. He’d left.

Shepard flipped up the screen on her Omni-Tool. Like Kaidan said, perhaps it didn’t matter knowing the point of divergence. It couldn’t help her get home. It was such a small thing, but so important in every way else. If she hadn’t ran after him in the Summit Hall, they wouldn’t have ended up together. Without Kaidan, she wouldn’t have become Councilor or a mother or had a home. Without her being Councilor, look what had happened to the galaxy. It was in a damn ruin. One small choice to move or stay had changed the entire galaxy.

She moved through the screens on her ‘Tool. Her pictures were on the same extranet server as always. There were folders with pictures from N7 training, her roommate’s antics on Arcturus, a splattering of friends from the Normandy, and more recent photos. 

Her hair was black and blunt in the new photos. The person smiling beside her in the pictures was ever the same one. There were more glasses of alcohol than real smiles. Planets and places without anyone in the frame at all, as if wanting to document the exotic landscapes but having no worth sharing the lens if she turned it around. Alone. 

There were old family photos from Mindoir. She snapped that file shut fast, but she had needed to check. They were all there and accounted for. Everything but him.

Where was the goofy trio at the Citadel bar that half-day of shore leave? Ashley’s arm would have been around Kaidan’s neck in the picture, her beer dribbling on Kaidan’s shoulder, a darkening stain already starting to grow. Despite the baptism, Kaidan’s eyes had been on Shepard. Her hand was pressed to his back, her head tipping into his face as she aimed the camera. She hadn’t thought anything of it when she snapped the photo.

Later, on the SR-1, alone in her cabin, she was sorting through photos from the day and flipped past it. She’d pulled it back quickly and froze. Heart pounding, she’d zoomed in on him. He was flushed, his laugh fading into a grin, his face tipped toward her. His eyes, dark and shining, lingering on her lips. 

It was just an awkward still capture, she thought, while her fingers flew back in the shots. She looked at any shots with both of them in the frame. It had jumped out at her then. She didn’t know if she was imagining it. A sickening dizziness and warmth had expanded in her chest. She had stared at his picture, heart thumping, and denied it to herself all the while wondering if he was just on the other side of her cabin wall. Years later, Miranda would confront her with the same pictures. Even she could see how he looked at her.

The picture in the bar with Ash spilling her drink on him wasn’t here. None of them were. Pictures from the SR-1 had Garrus, Wrex, Liara, Tali, Ash, and sometimes herself. Any pictures with Kaidan were gone. It was the same for the SR-2. The only picture of him was the group shot from the party at Anderson’s apartment. The picture was buried deep in the archive. If it had been a physical copy, she’d be coughing from the dust she needed to blow off it.

Shepard touched the picture where Kaidan sat on the couch next to her. Young, handsome, and still with that look in his eyes that she remembered. She remembered it from the Normandy. Remembered it from a few weeks ago holding his face in her hands in the sunset on their deck. She remembered it from almost every day of her life the last ten years. Every day but the last twenty-two.

She bit into her lower lip and slumped back in her seat. She touched his profile with the pad of her finger. He was more handsome now. Temples a little grayer perhaps, laugh lines a little more set, but his chiseled face was still bright and alive. His dark eyes, the beautiful line of his jaw, the feel of his muscles under her palms. His carriage, his presence, his voice, everything -- he’d only become richer, deeper, more desirable. Kaidan, her fine wine. The alcohol content had to be increasing with age, too, because she’d only become more intoxicated and addicted.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

If he was here with her now being called fine wine, he’d say something witty or ironic, maybe sarcastic and snarky, maybe tender and sweet. She didn’t even know which one she wanted to hear, but he would know. He’d say the right thing. He always felt the moment better than she could. 

_ “How are you spelling wine?” He’d laugh and reach toward her.  _

_ Or he’d hold her and say, “I’m only a fine wine when I’m in a rosé with you. Otherwise, I come in a box.” _

She closed her eyes and tried to feel the warmth of his hands holding her face, the soft touch of his breath on her lips, his lips like petals trailing down her throat. His whisper would tickle her ear. “I love you” would shiver down her spine. She tried to remember all of him, like slapping the bottom of an empty bottle held upside down. Every day she was shaking it harder and harder for a drop. How much longer and even that drop would be a faded memory? 

***

_ Shepard checked the clasps on her armor. Her heart drummed with the rhythm of the ship, even as it fell out of FTL. The light crackle in the air drew away like a falling veil. Across the Normandy’s cargo bay, marines were laughing over each other. Heat clips popped into their rifles. Grenades snapped on their belts. The shuttle hummed with start up checks. They were ready. _

_ The elevator door opened, and her stomach soured. She focused on checking the thermal clips in her locker, even though she’d already checked them. _

_ “This is an important operation, Captain,” said a smooth voice. “I hope everything is in order.” _

_ “Why wouldn’t it be?” She slammed her locker door shut. _

_ Admiral Cicero stared back at her with a removed, predatory gaze that always put a chill in her blood. As long as she’d known him, which hadn’t been long, he had always held her in his eyes this way. If she could see her reflection in the sheen, it would be a wounded hare in the leveled gaze of a wolf. She wasn’t going to be intimidated. She glared back at him.  _

_ “You’re getting emotional,” he said. “Don’t. This operation is essential.”  _

_ “I know. You’re up for Admiral Talbert’s spot in Sol. You mentioned it once or twice or a dozen times.” _

_ “You don’t want to alienate me,” he said icily. “I won’t keep overlooking your insolence.”  _

_ “This operation matters a hell of a lot more to me.” _

_ “I can remove you from this mission. Take command of the ship, if I wanted. Start acting a proper subordinate, or I shall make you.” _

_ Shepard ground her jaw and bit back the words burning in the back of her throat. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in pettiness right now. _

_ “Apologies. Sir.” _

_ Cicero’s mouth tilted up at the corners, but no warmth flushed up into his eyes. “Now, Bahavm’s ship will be arriving any moment. You have the schematics for Kulenk’s freighter?” _

_ “You know I do,” Shepard said dryly. “This was my operation until the Normandy’s leash was yanked to pick you up on Orian.” _

_ “Bringing Bahavm to justice will be an important moment for the Alliance, the Terminus System, and the galaxy at large. Something Alenko never--” _

_ “Time to brief my team,” Shepard cut in sharply. _

_ Cicero stepped in her way. In the background, her marines were getting restless. They were armored, had their rifles ready, and knew the plan. Now they just needed the fight. She needed the fight. _

_ “I understand the fuel behind this kind of rage.” Cicero’s breath has a pleasant toothpasty-scent which made Shepard itch to take a step back. Smelling an admiral’s breath was a sign of being too close. “Don’t let this revenge for Alenko drive you to make a mistake.” _

_ “Vengeance? You’re assuming he’s dead. He could be alive.” _

_ “He’s not.”  _

_ Shepard’s stomach clenched. She kept her face smooth. Cicero waved away some marines calling for her, then refocused his attention on her.  _

_ “Your undercover man has been on Kulenk’s ship for a week. There aren’t human prisoners or slaves in this exchange. Whatever Kulenk plans to sell Bahavm is cargo. Bahavm’s empire is built from red sand, and Alenko’s been a burr in his side since he entered the system. No doubt Kulenk hopes to get some reward for killing him.” _

_ “If Kulenk can prove it. Alenko could--” _

_ “He’s dead.” Cicero’s voice clapped. Engineers working on an open console across the bay and more than a few of the marines turned their direction. “Alenko died on the Lomond. He was a good officer, probably on his way up even. But he’s no more than particles in space and has been for three weeks.” _

_ Shepard’s face heated and her hands curled into fists. She couldn’t think of him that way, even if it was true.  _

_ “You’re doing what he couldn’t with Kulenk,” Cicero said. “You’ve traced his rendezvous with Bahavm. Bagging them both at once. Excellent workup.” _

_ “One you want your name on?” _

_ “One I’m overseeing.” Cicero stepped out of her way. “This drive in you. This thirst for satiation. You have a history with batarians. Now Alenko. Be smart about feeding it, but no reason to deny it either.” He lifted her helmet off the bench. She’d almost forgotten it. He offered it to her. _

_ “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Admiral.” Shepard tore the helmet from his fingers. “All I want is Alenko safe and back aboard my ship. He’ll be relieved to see Bahavm and Kulenk locked in the brig. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to brief my team.” _

_ Shepard’s heeled made a hollow sound as she strode across the bay. Eager smiles and bright eyes turned toward her. _

_ “Listen up,” she snapped. _

_ *** _

_ Bahavm’s ship docked with Kulenk’s freighter. The Normandy ran silent from a distance, the upgraded stealth systems working at their finest. Shepard stood next to the shuttle and started a count to allow enough time for Bahvn to get aboard Kulenk’s cargo vessel. Then Joker maneuvered the Normandy close enough to get the shuttle within range. Shepard crammed into the shuttle with her marines.  _

_ Even with the Normandy dropping them in close, there was limited time to get aboard the freighter before the shuttle hit the batarian ships’ sensors. One minute, two minutes, three minutes. Red numbers counted down on Shepard’s Omni-Tool. Each minute less felt like a hammer blow. She shouted at Cortez to hurry. It only exploded his stress. She’d been pushing him harder lately. He’d threatened to transfer. She didn’t care. She wanted Kaidan safe. Nothing else mattered but getting on that freighter. Five minutes, Six minutes. Only four left. Seven minutes, Ei-- _

_ The shuttle clicked into place. Shepard released her breath. The batarian on Kulenk’s crew she paid for intel had already turned off the docking sensors and left the gate unlocked. They piled out from the shuttle into a grimy metal bay stuffed with cargo crates. _

_ “I’m taking point. Gowen, Lopez, Huet: left. The rest. Right. We’re going into the central cargo hold. Stick tight with me.” She pressed the comm in her ear. The second shuttle should be docking as well. There were only a few minutes left on the countdown. “Commander Cater?” _

_ “Docking now, ma’am.” _

_ It wasn’t textbook. Like any op, she had to roll with the punches. The cargo hold was fuller than she expected. Her team had to move like rats through the tunneled corridors of unmarked crates and salvage. There were giant metal parts of an absconded satellite, a dismantled but identifiable salarian ground cruiser, warship fuel cells, and numerous other pieces of wrecks. A charred Alliance shuttle gave her pause. Her heart lifted, but she couldn’t identify the model. It could be years old. The assignment number was burned away. She couldn’t help the hope welling inside her that it was a sign someone from the Lomond had escaped the ship’s explosion. _

_ Lieutenant Lopez watched her squinting at the shuttle’s identifiers. “The recorder box didn’t show any escape pods or shuttles launched, Captain.” _

_ “What?” she snapped. _

_ “The Lomond, ma’am.” _

_ “Stop talking. Stick to the op.” _

_ “Understood, ma’am,” he said flatly. _

_ “Voices ahead,” Shepard whispered and motioned her team down the row of freights. She touched the comm in her ear. “Commander Cater?” _

_ He’d reached the other side of the bay with his team. He reported hearing the same commotion and spotting Kulnek with a group of men in the center of the bay. The yelling and flurry of shadows ahead was a good sign someone had finally spotted their docked shuttles. Cater confirmed a batarian had arrived yelling something to two groups.  _

_ Shepard crept closer to the cargo hold’s open area. A dozen batarians faced another dozen, both with rifles at the ready, and cagey expressions just alerted to the discovery. No time to lose. Shepard eyed the men behind her and swept her hand forward. They burst into the open surrounded by metal crates and wide-eyed batarians.  _

_ The batarians swung into action, tearing assault rifles off their shoulders, and running for cover. Cater took them from behind as they scattered to cover themselves from Shepard’s team. The bay doors that lead to the rest of the ship closed and locked. It was to prevent them from taking the bridge. What she wanted was here, Kulenk and Bahavm, but securing the ship would be important too. Shepard directed Lopez to bypass the lock using the control panel by the door.  _

_ Caters team had splintered the batarian’s retreat for cover. They came to the door now as planned, while Shepard’s team provided cover. Cater would take the ship, and she’d take the mercs gathered for the exchange. The batarians were still scrambling for good vantage points that provided cover. They returned fire.  _

_ Lopez was proficient and fast. The doors rumbled open, and Cater slipped into the ship’s main hall and toward the bridge. Good. Now that was in motion, she could focus on the bastards in front of her who were begging to die. _

_ Shepard threw a deluge of biotics. It felt good to let loose. A batarian got sucked into her Singularity. He floated in the air in the center of the open area of crates like a waiting target.  _

_ Her team needed to secure Bahavm and Kulek. They had to be among the batarians in this room. She edged out of cover. A bullet skimmed her shoulder, taking the paint off her armor. She threw Warp at the floating batarian and came out into the open. The explosion threw men to the ground who had been taking cover nearby. It threw a few of her own men. She missed having another biotic on her team to coordinate attacks. Make it more graceful. _

_ “Bahavm!” she roared, looking around her. “This is Shepard. Come fight me, you bastard!” _

_ The fight was too loud and chaotic for her challenge. She studied the batarians, some returning fire from behind crates, others locked in hand-to-hand in melee, and some who were opportunists and did both. Bahavm was a fierce fighter. He had red skin. She had seen his picture more times than she could name. Kulenk was less recognizable, dark brownish green skin like so many batrians, but he would be in yellow armor. She squinted at the figures on the far side of the bay. _

_ Alarms sounded overhead in the bay. Cater radioed over the comms . He’d taken the bridge already. Too easy. That meant Kulenk had brought most of his fighters into the bay to meet Bahavm and his men.  _

_ Across the bay -- there! Bahavm was with a squad of three other batarian. They had two of her men pinned behind a crate. Shepard fought off an incoming batarian with her Omni-blade and charged Bahavm’s direction. Bullets flecked off her biotic shield, and she Threw another batarian coming at her with his blade. Bahavm was hers, and then Kulenk after him.  _

_ There were too many batarians in her way. They’d pop out from behind crates in front of her or come charging from the side. She drew her blade. It made her almost giddy digging the blade straight through to their spines as they came. Hollowness would expand in their eyes as hot blood pumped over her fist. Then she withdrew her blade and let them drop. She continued toward her target. _

_ Bahavm saw her coming and turned with his shotgun. Shepard slammed him with a Throw, Warp, Throw, Pull, Warp. Again and again. She used her pistol until it overheated. Some batarian lackey with overload on his ‘Tool probably. Shepard threw the pistol aside. The blade was more fun anyway.  _

_ Bahavm seemed surprised by her ferocity. His four eyes widened. He took tripping steps to backed away from her barrage. He parried her blows, but she wouldn’t let him get a blow in himself. He slid sideways, a move she hadn’t been expecting, and raised his shotgun. Shepard kicked the barrel up. The shell hit the batarian over her shoulder. Unplanned and perfect. This was too easy. _

_ Shepard grabbed the barrel of his shotgun with both hands and flared her biotics. Her barrier spread over it, and she ripped it away. Bahavm was shocked. Her whole body glowing, she punched him in the chest with her fist. The crunch was satisfying. Not satisfying enough. _

_ Bahavm had stripped nearly a dozen Transverse colonies: humans, salarians, volus, a few mixed population trading epicenters. He knew the location of slave mining camps, criminal trading outpost, and other crime lord’s hideaways. He had valuable information. Untold lives could be recovered if he cooperated. Bringing him in alive would give justice to the Council, the Alliance, the surviving colonists and numerous families who lost loved ones. But he couldn’t give the lost loved ones back.  _

_ Shepard steadied her next punch, her body vibrating with biotic energy, and drew out the blade on her Omni-Tool. Bahavm’s already-large eyes got rounder. She’d beaten him to the ground. His weapon was gone. His shield was broken. He was defenseless and hugging his middle. Justice wasn’t going to bring back anyone’s loved one. His inside intel probably wasn’t going to be forthcoming anyway.  _

_ “Go to hell, Bahavm!” _

_ “Alliance war vessel docking!” It came from a batarian returning fire in the distance and consulting his Omni-Tool. _

_ She turned back to Bahavm. It had to be now. Quick. Before-- _

_ “Hold!” Bahavm roared. _

_ Shepard flinched. The whole bay froze in motion. _ _ Kulenk -- recognizable by the yellow armor -- was the only one to dismiss Bahavm’s echoing order. She saw him across the bay, stilling firing, and skipping between crates for cover. Everyone else had gone dead still.  _

_ Shepard signaled four of her soldiers out of cover. The rest of the batarians seemed compliant in following Bahavm’s orders. Kulenk fought off her marines, but not for long. Soon his cheek was pressed against the metal floor like all the rest. Then it was over.  _

_ Shepard’s heart pumped wildly. Bahavm stared up at her, and she stepped off his chest. A surrender. The fight had only just started. It was unsatisfying. It was a win. Her men looked relieved. The Normandy was docking. It was over, but all she could feel was let down. She kicked Bahavm in the ribs so hard his armor popped, then she motioned the lieutenant to come over for him.  _

_ The marines hauled the batarians into the center of the room, bound them, and put them belly-down in a line. She stood over Bahavm, nicely subdued with the others, face against the floor. Disappoint fuzzied her thoughts. Her high had been cut off without the moment of release, like being in bed with someone when the fire alarms go off. You’re left unsatisfied, evacuating a building, and still tasting the high.  _

_ There were eight batarian survivors in all. Out of two dozen of them, it hadn’t been a complete slaughter for them. Five of her men were injured. Two badly.  _

_ It was unexpected taking both Bahavm and Kulenk alive. Bahavm’s quick surrender showed he understood weighing the odds and when to call a loss a loss. Smart for a batarian. Perhaps he would give up information after all. She put her blade away.  _

_ This was a victory, but it didn’t feel like it. Not just because the fight was short, but because of what the fight had been missing from the very beginning. She’d realized it right away when she entered the open area of the bay. Kaidan wasn’t here. He should be coming out from cover behind a crate, the batarians’ biotic cuffs on his wrist, clearly worse for wear, but alive. But he wasn’t. He had never been here. A lump formed in her throat.  _

_ The only merchandise apparent in the Kulenk and Bahavm’s exchange were crates. Gray, nondescript, unmarked: the stack of crates next to where Kulenk had been standing. His part of the trade no doubt. Since there was nothing else, the return must have be credits.  _

_ Shepard walked down the row of prisoners with their wrists ziptied behind their back. Lieutenant Lopez was just finishing Kulenk’s when Admiral Cicero came through the cargo bay doors. Officers aboard the ship flushed the corridor behind him. The Normandy had docked just like the batarian announced in battle.  _

_ Cicero glided along the row of batarians with tired interest until he reached the red-skinned form of Bahavm at the end. He looked back at the batarian in yellow armor who he’d already passed. His eyebrows rose. _

_ “Alive. Both?” He seemed neither pleased nor displeased, only surprised. _

_ Shepard came up to him. “We should question Kulenk’s men, go through their ship logs, outgoing transmission over the last month. If Alenko--” _

_ “Captain!” yelled Chief Huet. _

_ Huet stood amid the stack of crates Kulenk had been offering in the exchange. Huet had her hands up and had backed away from one of the cargo containers. The lid was open on a long metal crate in front of her. It was oddly shaped for an explosive, waist high and oblong. It was large enough to fit a missile.  _

_ “Lopez,” Shepard called for a tech expert and walked to Huet. “What is it, Chief?” _

_ The crate held another contained inside of it. It was a stainless box almost the same size as the outer container. The top was the only part visible with the lid off the crate. This wasn’t a missile.  _ _ A clear glass window in the inner container was fogged with ice. Shepard edged closer. Air sucked in her lungs like a vacuum. Her legs wobbled. _

_ Huet caught her by the elbow. “Ma’am!”  _

_ “No.” Shepard shoved her off and pressed her palm to the glass.  _

_ Cicero came up behind her, part irritated, part curious. He looked over her shoulder and froze. _

_ “He’s alive!” Shepard shouted. “This is a cryopod. The glass is frosted. We need to get him out.” _

_ Cicero turned to the marines gawking at them. He signaled them to move the batarians against the far wall and out of the way. Lieutenant Lopez, the tech expert Shepard called over, hovered uncertainly at Shepard’s elbow.  _

_ “That’s Admiral Alenko?” Lopez asked, trying to catch Shepard’s eye. _

_ Shepard avoided his gaze. “I can’t -- dammit! Help me. We need to get this open. Right now.” _

_ “It’s not a cryopod.” Cicero’s voice cut her. _

_ “How the hell would you know?” Shepard rounded on him, hair stringing in her face, and her breath becoming ragged. “You’ve seen every batarian-made cryo pod ever made? Sir.” _

_ “I agree, Captain. This isn’t a cryopod,” Lopez said softly. He pushed Shepard’s hands gently away from the inner container and worked at the lid with his Omni-Tool. _

_ “If that isn’t a cryopod then what the hell is it?” Shepard said. _

_ “I think it’s your evidence, ma’am.” When Shepard only blinked at him, he added quietly, “Evidence Kulenk killed . . .” _

_ “His face doesn’t look like he’s been spaced or burned in an explosion.” _

_ “Could have been preserved in a hardsuit,” Huet murmured. _

_ Shepard turned a heated glare on her. _

_ Cicero called to an officer standing in the far hallway. “Fetch Doctor Quigley.” He turned back to Shepard. “He worked in red sand pits and slave camps, correct? If nothing else, he can look at the batarian prisoners.” _

_ “I’m unsealing the lid,” Lopez said.  _

_ The inner lid gave a sharp pop and loud hiss. A frosty plume blasted into Shepard’s face. She leaned over the container as Lopez lifted off the lid. _

_ “Cryo, like I said,” Shepard said. “Look at the frost crystals.” _

_ Kaidan. It really was him. Her insides twisted. He lay still, eyes shut, face bloodless and waxy. His dark hair was stiff with frost. Shepard tore off her gauntlet, let it clank to the floor, and touched his cheek with her palm. It didn’t feel like skin. It felt hard and cold like metal. His skin should feel chilled but not like a block of ice. Something wasn’t right. _

_ “Kaidan?” Her lips trembled. She looked back at Lopez. “Start the cryostasis release sequence.” _

_ Lopez had his Omni-Tool up, reading the screen, and his face fell. He snapped the screen closed. “I’m sorry, Captain.” _

_ “The release program!” Shepard insisted but her voice cracked. She swallowed down the warble in her words. “Now, Lieutenant.” _

_ “This pod doesn’t have a release program,” Lopez said. “I’m sorry, Captain. No life signs. Even in cryo, there are life signs, weak ones. This is just . . . They were preserving his body.” _

_ “This is batarian technology. We know nothing about it.”  _

_ The batarians were lined against the wall. Cater stood over them with a datapad. Two private watched them with rifles at the ready. _

_ “Take this to the medbay,” Cicero said finally and waved at the opened pod. _

_ “No,” Shepard’s voice was only a whisper.  _

_ She ran her fingers through Kaidan’s thick, dark hair. Tiny ice crystals fell away under her touch. His eyelashes even had frost. This had to be cryo. Just some extreme version of it perhaps. _

_ Lopez slipped hover wheels underneath the outer crate. Huet tugged on Shepard’s arm, but Shepard shoved her away so hard Huet stumbled. _

_ “Kaidan.” She pressed her palm to his cheek again, stiff and icy, nothing of the warm skin she remembered in her hand. His lips chilled the pad of her thumb. It was like tracing the contours of a marble statue. His lips had felt so soft when he would kiss up her throat to her ear. There wasn’t any breath left to tickle her ear and make her laugh. He really was . . . Shepard drew back as the crate lifted.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Lopez whispered. “At least, his family now . . .” _

_ Lopez pushed the container to the bay doors. Family. Liara could have his body now. But Shepard had promised to bring him back alive, not . . . Shepard pressed fingers to her lips. Kaidan’s face was lost from sight as Lopez turned the corner into the corridor. A few breaths, she could orient herself, just get through until she could be alone and not embarrass herself.  _

_ Would Liara touch his face in the same way Shepard had? Liara would remember the soft touch of his skin as it should have been. She’d remember his soft lips. Breathe, breathe. _

_ “Out,” Cicero called in the muted background around her. _

_ “Sir.” Cater’s voice somewhere around her. “We need to process the batarian prisoners. Bahavm says he’ll talk for a price.” _

_ “Price?” Shepard whipped around. “How about the price of his life! That filthy--” _

_ “Out,” Cicero repeated looking at Cater and then the others. _

_ “Sir . . .” Cater eyed Shepard warily and looked over at the liner prisoners. “Let’s first escort--” _

_ “Captain Shepard has sensitive information she needs from Bahavm and the others. You don’t have clearance to overhear. Get all the marines out. Seal the door.” _

_ Cater looked directly at Shepard. She couldn’t do more than gaze numbly back. Her body tingled and felt far away. Cater ushered the last of the marines out the door. It shut. _

_ “The rest of their exchange appears to be red sand and random equipment,” Cicero observed eyeing the other open containers. “That is equipment that can be used for a nuclear--” _

_ Shepard launched across the cargo bay. She dove at the batarians in full tilt. Cicero didn’t call after her. There weren’t pounding shoes behind her. No fingers snagging her arm as she raised her Omni-blade. Bahavm was squirming on his stomach like the rest of them against the wall. He rolled over enough to look up at her with giant eyes. _

_ Shepard’s voice was shaky. “He was worth more than anything you could pay, you sick, bastard.” _

_ She rammed the Omni-blade down. Blood bubbled from Bahavm’s mouth. The gag and gurgle in his throat only made her twist her blade deeper. The batarians down line exploded in garbled yelling and writhed against their bonds. Some twisted and kicked until their backs were against the wall and tried unsuccessfully to get enough leverage to stand. Others tried in vain to roll into the line of crates, as if they could hide. _

_ Cicero held the comm in his ear. “No, no. It’s fine. I will call if we need assistance.” _

_ Blood dripped from Shepard’s fingertips when she drew back from Bahavm’s body. The light faded from Bahavm’s features. His thrashing, which had been so satisfying in the moment, faded away. He went still. _

_ “You’re hotheaded.” Cicero crossed the room. _

_ Shepard spun so fast her hair slapped into her face. “Go ahead! Arrest me. I don’t give a damn.” _

_ “Neither do I.” For the first time, she saw life in his eyes, an ember at the bottom of the ocean. _

_ “What do you mean you don’t care?” Shepard stabbed a finger at Bahavm’s body, blood still oozing from his mouth. “I just murdered a man.” _

_ “Lower your voice,” Cicero said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it didn’t have any real tone to it either. Steady and cool. “How did it make you feel?” _

_ “What?” Shepard stared at him. She could taste the metal in the batarian’s blood on her lip. Her face and hair were damp with it. _

_ “Do you feel better?” _

_ “How will I ever feel better? Kaidan’s gone. I’ve lost . . . I’ll never see him again. Kaidan . . .” The word sucked in so deep, she stuttered. He was dead. Gone. The pain poured out from her chest like she’d been gutted. The world spun under her feet. _

_ “No, no.” Cicero grabbed her by the shoulder. “Don’t do that. That’s not the way to feel it.” _

_ Tears burned down her cheeks. She tried to hold back the sounds in the back of her throat, but her chest was hiccuping. Now what had she done? The crew would see and know.  _

_ “Here.” Cicero turned her chin from the far door and held her eyes. “Didn’t batarians kill your family? You walked away from Mindoir when everyone else was slaughtered.” _

_ Shepard’s jaw clenched harder against the tears. The people she loved and the futures she could have had were all taken away by these things. Not batarians, she wouldn't let herself go there, but slavers and criminals as a category. They had killed Kaidan and acted like his body was a trophy. Had he suffered? Was he alive when they recovered him in his hardsuit? Did they enjoy killing him? _

_ Shepard rammed her Omni-Tool through the neck of a batarian struggling against the wall. She didn’t know who it was and didn’t care. He was one of them. She twisted the blade so tight her wrist felt like snapping. Blood flecked into her face when she pulled back. Cicero grabbed her arm. He was finally stopping her. _

_ “You’re too impulsive,” Cicero said over the other batarians’ screams. Shepard tried to speak, but he put a finger to her lips. “Think first. You want vengeance. You don’t want to lie awake at night regretting their quick death, while you still suffer. You must hold the emotions in. Think first.” _

_ Cicero drew his finger back from her lips. Batarian blood tinted his fingertip. He examined it in the light impassively then slowly put it to his lips. Shepard’s insides twisted. _

_ “How much human blood have they tasted? More than could fit in this hold I imagine.” Cicero looked down the row of prisoners. There were two dead, five writhing and screaming. “Do you know batarian culture, Shepard?” _

_ “What are you talking about?” _

_ “Batarian culture. You see, they believe the soul leaves the body through the eyes. You could have made Bahavm suffer, but you gave him an easy death. He’s in their version of Heaven, according to their beliefs. Allotted some grand place at a banquet no doubt where he can be fed by human slaves forever. They’ll admire his death. Perhaps he even comforted himself with the idea before the light went out. There’s no horror in it for them.” _

_ “No horror?” Shepard waved at the men in front of them. “They look pretty horrified to me.” _

_ “For now. No one wants to die. But in the end, they believe they’ve earned a place in paradise for their atrocities. Instead, give them something to truly fear. They believe their soul leaves the body through the eyes. A blind death is one without Heaven. Show them the true price of brutalizing your family.” _

_ “They didn’t kill my family.” _

_ “They killed Alenko.” _

_ Her heart beat in her ears. Kaidan. Dead.  _

_ “You’re a monster.” Shepard backed away. “You’re trying to make me into one too.”  _

_ Cicero smiled amused and stepped closer to her. “I see two dead batarians with their insides twisted to make it hurt more while they died. That wasn’t me.” _

_ “You’re getting some sick thrill from this.” Shepard spat. _

_ “That didn’t thrill you?” Cicero grabbed her chin again. It shocked her, the cold touch. “You went back for seconds.” _

_ “You pushed me to it.” Shepard pulled her face away. _

_ “I made you do it?” Cicero’s incisors glinted. “How biblical. I’m the serpent? You stand there with an apple core but blame me for words.” _

_ “Kaidan wouldn’t have wanted . . .” Shepard turned her back on the dead batarians.  _

_ “What Alenko would have wanted doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t exist. It’s what you want. You know what they took away.” _

_ Liara flashed in Shepard’s mind. She had no doubt what Liara would do. Shepard could see it in her mind's eye: Liara, back ramrod straight, pistol out, walking along the line, shot after shot. Liara would execute all of them.  _

_ The batarians sneered Shepard’s direction, calling her derogatory words she couldn’t understand, which they knew she couldn’t understand. In her mind, she saw Kaidan lying cold and still in the box. Three weeks dead. An executioner’s shot to the head was too good for these bastards. _

_ “Let’s bring the crew back in,” Shepard said, but only weakly. “I’ll tell them . . . tell them . . .” _

_ “What about him?” Cicero nodded past her. The dark brown-green figure of Kulenk thrashed at the end of the line. “Sure you want to get your crew now? He’s the one who killed Alenko. Bahavm only put out the reward. Kulnek planned the ambush. Salvaged Alenko’s body to sell like merchandise and collect a reward.” _

_ The irony wasn’t lost on her of what had happened to her own body: the Shadow Broker and the Collectors. Only this time, there was any science to bring him back. _

_ “They’re killing us!” Kulenk raged. He flopped half way over only to fall back on his stomach again and again. “She killed Bahavm! She’s trying to kill us!” _

_ “Ah.” Cicero folded his hands behind his back. “I suppose you know what he will tell the crew then. You know what all the batarians will tell the crew.” _

_ The room closed in around Shepard. Kulenk and the others screamed and screamed inside her skull. The two dead batarians lay still against the wall, and Cicero was still talking. _

_ “What will everyone think when they know what you did? Do you really think Alenko wouldn’t do the same thing for you, if it was your body he found?” _

_ It was the first time something Cicero said jarred her from his smooth words and out of the dark whirlpool of chaos and emotions. _

_ “Do this? Kaidan? Never. Not for anything.” _

_ “Justice isn’t black and white.” _

_ “Kaidan wouldn’t want this.” _

_ “Then at least get some answers first.” Cicero strolled Kulenk’s direction. _

_ Kulenk spit at them. “You, Alenko, all of you! You can go to human hell.” _

_ Shepard charged past Cicero. “What did you say?” _

_ “You’re damned by your own human rules.” _

_ Shepard stood over him. Fire burned in her chest.  _

_ “If I’m already going to human hell, what’s to stop me from killing you?” She flipped him over so roughly, his head hit the floor like a gong. “What’re you doing with Kaidan Alenko’s body? Did you retrieve it from space?” _

_ “Help! She’s--” _

_ Shepard punched him in the mouth. “Answer me.” _

_ “She’s killing us!” _

_ The second punch did nothing to change his cries for attention. Cicero stepped up behind her. _

_ “You know what he fears,” Cicero said it so quietly she could barely hear. _

_ Shepard ignored him. She punched Kulenk again. “Tell me!” _

_ “Give up interrogating him or make it real. Either you get serious or give up. Let him tell the crew who killed the two dead batarians. You’ll sleep every night without seeing Alenko lying dead and knowing Kulenk will live into old age someplace you can never reach him.” _

_ “Stop telling me what to do,” she snapped at him. _

_ Cicero nodded lazily at her. “Watch out.” _

_ Kulenk kicked her hard in the chest. It knocked the wind out of her. By the time she’d straddled him, she’d bitten her tongue and taken another boot to the chest. She slammed her fist into his face. He screamed so sharp it echoed. Echoed in her ears. In her skull. In her chest.  _

_ Shepard stared down into an empty eye socket with a jolt of shock. His three other eyes looked back at her in sheer animal fear. It sent a rush of adrenaline burning through her blood. It felt good. Finally, a reaction. Fear. Horror. Maybe finally: Regret. It wasn’t until she looked over at her hand, she realized it had been her Omni-blade that did it. She had done it. His screams rattled her teeth. _

_ “Talk!” She lifted him by the collar then slammed his head back down on the floor. “You know I’m serious.” _

_ “Three eyes left,” Cicero said placidly. “You can still die in peace. Talk.” _

_ “Alenko came by shuttle,” Kulenk said in a rush. _

_ “He wasn’t on the ship?” Shepard’s blood beat harder. _

_ “No.” _

_ “Elaborate,” Cicero said tiredly, checking his Omni-Tool’s time, and then eying the cargo bay doors. “This needs to finish up. We’re taking too long.” _

_ “We lead him into deep space,” Kulenk said. “Let his ship take out our thrusters. We wanted him to board, and he did. His men overran us, but I had an ambush ready. The ship he boarded, he thought it was my main vessel, it wasn’t. My other ships converged. I was expecting him, knew he was coming, and my men flooded into the stranded ship. His ship was destroyed immediately. He and his men were trapped on my vessel and outmanned. I was tired of him following me. Always chasing me. Bahavm would pay fifty thousand credits for him.” Kulenk smiled twistedly. “I made sure not to shoot his face.” _

_ He screamed when Shepard stabbed him. She took out each eye. She stood back and let him scream in ringing terror as he bled to death. She killed batarian after batarian, not sparing their eyes. Her face burned with blood and tears, hair pasted to her cheeks, shaky and feverish. _

_ Cicero grabbed her hard by the back of the neck. His fingers dug into her vertebrae, eyes bright and alive, and he kissed her. She struggled, let her biotics flare. He started to release her. But like a flipped magnet, it suddenly felt right. The taste of blood and violence, his hands rough and savage, their teeth grinding together in a kiss.  _

_ The kiss was wild and animalistic and frenzied. She felt insane. Nothing felt real anymore. The world felt detached. Nothing had consequences or mattered. She clawed at his neck urging him to make it rougher. His hands felt at her armor. It was a curse between them. She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel. She wanted to never feel again. She kissed him harder. _

_ “Shepard.” The male voice was far away. _

_ Over the screaming batarians, some still dying, over Cicero’s panting and the blood beating in her ears -- she heard his voice. Kaidan’s voice. Her fingers froze, still dug into Cicero’s waist.  _

_ “Shepard!” _

_ Shepard shoved Cicero away. Cicero stumbled back, breath ragged and gasping, mouth smeared with blood from her face. All she could see in that moment was the figure standing at the far end of the cargo bay. He was alone. The cargo bay door had already slid shut behind him. She felt dizzy, sick, off balance. _

_ “Kaidan?” Shepard grabbed the wall. She threw up. _

_ Cicero shuffled back from her vomited mess. She stared down at the mix of blood and vomit. Sweat beaded on the end of her nose. She willed herself to look up again. If he wasn’t really there there it would butcher her. _

_ “Shepard.” His voice again. _

_ She met his eyes as he crossed the room. He was dressed in surgical scrubs, his hair a mess, and his gait was slightly sidewinding. His expression was dazed but something else too: trepidatious. _

_ “You’re alive?” Her voice wavered. “How?” _

_ Her first thought was Cerberus, but she knew it was preposterous. Kaidan’s eyes widened on the dead batarians around her. He clasped both hands over his mouth.  _

_ Cicero touched the comm in his ear. “No, that’s fine. I understand. It was an admiral’s order. You had to let him through. Keep positioned for now.” _

_ Kaidan’s eyes slid to Cicero. “Where are my men?” _

_ “Kaidan Alenko.” Cicero strolled over to him. “How ever are you alive?” _

_ Shepard stood on wobbly legs. Five wide strides she could wrap her arms around Kaidan’s chest, but the batarian’s blood was still running down her arms and drying on her face. Kaidan stared at the dead batarian at her feet with dawning horror. _

_ “His eyes . . .” Kaidan’s voice strangled. _

_ Kaidan’s gaze lifted to Shepard’s face and darkened.  _

_ “Admiral,” Cicero repeated. “I will remind you. A fleet admiral just asked you a question.” _

_ “Who are you?” Kaidan turned on him. _

_ “Cicero,” Shepard answered for him. _

_ “Cicero,” Kaidan echoed. There were only twenty fleet admirals, and Kaidan must have recognized the name though it didn’t seem to mean anything to him. Kaidan pointed a wavering finger at the bloody wall. “What happened here? To these men? Their hands are ziptied.” _

_ Cicero pulled a tissue from his pocket, folded it precisely, and dabbed his mouth. “You’re disoriented. You need time to be evaluated for mental fitness. You can’t even seem to articulate how you’re standing here alive.” _

_ “You’re trying to distract me from this.” Kaidan pointed at the batarians.  _

_ Some of the batarians were still gurgling, and Kaidan’s eyes sharpened on them. He moved toward them, but Cicero blocked held him back with his arm.  _

_ “Lieutenant Lopez said you burst down the corridor from the Normandy.” Cicero stood in front of him. “You appeared like a ghost and ordered yourself let in. You need to go lie down.” _

_ “Those men are alive! Get out of my way.” _

_ Cicero unfolded a pistol in his hand. Each shot echoed around the bay and made Shepard flinch.  _

_ “Not anymore,” Cicero said. He wiped the pistol off with the tissue and set it in Bahavm’s hand. “Batarian mercs in the Terminus System. Bahavm and Kulenk are well-known sometimes-friends, sometimes-rivals. Today they were rivals.” Cicero used his Omni-blade to cut their zip ties and rearranged their limbs. “They cut their ties off with a piece of metal. Over there. That sharp edge on the crate and that piece of sharp paneling on the wall When we spoke to them, they each promised to give up the other’s information to us. Our backs turned, they freed themselves. A fight broke out. It happened so fast. It took us quite by surprise. He got my pistol even. You showed up just in time, Admiral.” _

_ Crumpled and bloody, Cicero’s uniform looked the part of a brawl. She had scratch marks from Cicero’s fingernails under her jaw. It seemed outlandish, but plausible if no one looked too hard. _

_ “Admiral?” Cicero focused on him. “This could end quite unfortunately for Captain Shepard, you realize? And she was only here to save you.” _

_ “Kadian.” Shepard took a step toward him.  _

_ He recoiled from her. “That’s not what I saw.”  _

_ “And what do you think you saw?” Cicero said. _

_ “I came to. Pushed the doctor away, came to find my men. I came here, heard the struggle, but I . . .” _

_ “You’re disoriented,” Cicero repeated. “You came in while the batarians were killing each other. No one cares about batarians.” _

_ “I do!” Kaidan’s voice clapped. _

_ “They’re just animals,” Cicero said. _

_ “They’re men. No more animal than you.” Kaidan’s eyes cut to Shepard and lingered. “Or her.” _

_ “Kaidan.” Shepard stumbled the rest of the steps between them. “They murdered your men. The Lomond was destroyed, all killed in action. They’re killers.” _

_ “So you become them?” Kaidan parried her hands away when she reached for him. It felt like a slap in the face. “We’re better than them. We’re supposed to be the good guys. And when I came in? I blocked it in the doorway, blocked it from the lieutenant, but . . . You liked this? You two were . . . celebrating. You tortured these men! Their eyes, Shepard.” _

_ Shepard stepped after him. “Kaidan, listen. I--” _

_ “Stop!” Kaidan put his hands up. “I thought you were . . . I don’t even know you.” _

_ “This drama is stirring.” Cicero folded his hands behind his back. “The blood is drying. Time has passed since you entered, and the gunshots will have been heard. Choose, Alenko. I’m calling them in.” _

_ “Wait!” Shepard said, but Cicero was already talking into his comm. She looked back at Kaidan. His eyes were blurry and mouth set firm. He looked pale and sickly. “Don’t lie for me, Kaidan. I did this. I’m just happy you’re alive. I can’t even tell you how happy.” _

_ “Dammit!” Lopez’s voice boomed from the opening doorway. Boots pounded toward them. Uniforms and armored soldiers swelled in the open doorway over Kaidan’s shoulder. Kaidan stared at her with faraway eyes. _

_ “Sir, you said everything was handled.” Lopez’s words tumbled out in a rush. “They’re all dead? How?” _

_ “Admiral Alenko’s timing was fortunate,” Cicero said. _

_ “Sir?” This time Lopez turned to Kaidan. _

_ “Alenko, I realize you’re disoriented,” Cicero said smoothly and approached him. “Do you remember anything? Shepard, as I remember, was in a precarious position. Did you save her?” _

_ “Sir?” Lopez repeated to Kaidan. _

_ Kaidan dragged his eyes away from Shepard. “I didn’t see anything. It was already all over. I don’t know what fully happened.” _

_ Lopez’s lips parted. “I wasn’t accusing anything, sir.” _

_ “I’m going back to the med bay.” Kaidan turned away. “None of my men have been found?” _

_ “Sorry, sir. No,” Lopez said. “It’s good you’re going to check back in. Quigley is out there in a real dither.” _

_ “The Admiral is disoriented,” Cicero said. “Do get your rest, Alenko, You appear to need it.” _

_ Kaidan stopped. He retraced his tracks so fast, it made Shepard’s pulse spike. He stood face to face with Cicero.  _

_ Kaidan’s voice was a hot whisper. “If I do nothing else, Fleet Admiral -- I don’t care what or how -- I’ll stand in your way. You shouldn’t be wearing those stars.” _

_ “You’re only an admiral, Alenko,” Cicero said with a sigh. “You’re not a member of Parliament.” _

_ “But I will be,” Kaidan said icily.  _

_ He stared at Cicero for a long moment then walked away. _

_ “Disoriented,” Cicero repeated to Lopez. _

_ Cicero gave Lopez orders to bag the bodies and release them out the airlock. Shepard looked on numbly. _

_ “We’re not bringing them back?” Lopez asked uncertainly.  _

_ “To what end? Dispose of them.” _

_ Cicero’s cold, gray eyes moved to Shepard. An ember of life still burned deep inside, but Shepard turned away from it. She ignored him calling after her and left the bay.  _

_ *** _

Shepard tore open the door to her assigned sleeping cubby and tumbled out of the sweaty sheets. Her bed inside was disheveled like she’d been tossing and turning in her little coffin. The lights were off, except for a thin green light from the glowing stripes at the base of the wall. The only sound was the low rhythm of the civilian ship’s engines and snores muffled behind the cubby doors along the wall. 

Shepard scuttled two rows over to the bottom cubby. She couldn’t open it from the outside when someone was using it. Instead, she tapped on it with her nails. Waited. Nothing. She rapped harder. The door slid open a slit.

“Kaidan,” she whispered into the crack.

The door flew open.

“What’s happening?” He breathed fast. “Is the ship--”

“No! No. Nothing like that.”

Kaidan dipped his head out of the bunk. “It’s still night cycle?”

“Everything’s fine.” Her heart, still thudding from the dream, mellowed the longer she looked at him. “I just . . . I wanted to talk to you.”

“In the middle of the night? You realize on a civilian transporter, passenger decks have a curfew.”

“I know.” Shepard rubbed sweat off her forehead and slowed her breathing.

“What’s the matter?” Kaidan eyed her hesitantly.

“I had a . . . Can I talk to you?”

“Whisper, but yeah.”

“Not here.”

“Curfew,” Kaidan reminded her.

“What are they gonna do to us? The airlock seems a bit drastic, and anything less isn’t enough to care about. Come on.”

“They have our credit numbers on file.” Kaidan grumbled but dropped his feet to the floor and stood. “All that fine print they make you sign. They’d probably fine us.”

“If they weren’t so chintzy and paid for a full staff, they wouldn’t have to worry about someone raiding the refrigerators or making out all night on the tabletops.”

Kaidan closed the door to his bunk. Shepard crept to the hall doorway, only to realize she was alone. She turned to find Kaidan sliding her cubby door closed. He padded back to her.

“They could just think we went to the bathroom.” Shepard urged him into the dark hallway then took the lead. 

“Both of us leaving to the bathroom? How long is this going to take?”

“We ate the same food, didn’t we? Alibi holds up.”

“This couldn’t wait until morning?” Kaidan stumbled behind her in the dark. The floor glowed with arrows of green light leading to the evacuation shuttles.

“Hey,” Shepard hissed over her shoulder at him. “You slept all day already. You’re rested. This won’t set off another headache.”

“I . . . How would you know?” Kaidan sputtered.

“Am I right?”

He narrowed his eyes at her in the dim light but didn’t contradict it.

“You have a destination in mind?” Kaidan asked. “Or are you hoping we’ll stumble into two plush wingback chairs? A fireplace ignites.”

“How’d you know?”

They entered the cafeteria. Starlight light glistened across the dining room tiles. Chairs were turned upside down and stacked on the metal tables. The circular portholes along the wall glittered with space and gave everything a dim outline. Shepard stepped over the cord roping off the area.

Kaidan stepped after her with a sigh. “Adrenaline withdrawal, Shepard? This is the only thrill you can find aboard a civilian vessel?” 

Shepard rolled her eyes. She turned a chair over and set it on the floor. He was always like this when she dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night: grumbly and snarky. The familiarity tugged her lips up in a smile despite the annoyance.

Kaidan plopped heavily into the chair across the table from her. He rubbed his face, elbows wobbling the table between them, and yawned. The darkness gave him a secret witness interview look. She turned on her Omni-Tool and let it cast an orange glow between them. 

Kaidan squinted at her. “What’s the matter?”

“I had a bad memory.” Shepard drank in the calming familiarity of his presence.

“A bad dream?” he said tiredly.

“Not a dream. This was real. One of the other Shepard’s memories.”

“Imagine there are a lot of parental warnings on that collection.” He rubbed his blinky eyes.

“ _ The Lomond,” _ she said.

Kaidan went still.

“What happened, Kaidan?”

Kaidan drew back from the table and folded his fists under his arms. “Got classified as KIA. Wasn’t. You know how that goes.”

“How did you survive?”

Kaidan focused on the table. Silence stretched between them. Perhaps this wasn’t something she should have brought up. 

Shepard squirmed in her chair. “Nevermind. You don’t have to--”

“The ship went down,” Kaidan said. “I was leading a strike force on what we thought was Kulenk’s frigate. It wasn’t.  _ The Lomond  _ was ambushed, chased away, eventually destroyed. The frigate we boarded was crippled, comms cut off, too far from a star system to escape from by shuttle. Our shuttles were fired on to prevent us disembarking. Kulenk overran the ship. We held up in the bridge. They gassed us. We couldn’t escape. I tried a biotic shield, but it couldn’t hold back the fumes. I thought: This is how it ends. It was just a normal mission. I left Liara, Orian, everything I cared about like it was a regular day. I wondered if anyone would know what happened to me. To my men.”

“They didn’t kill you though?”

His face hardened, and his eyes fixed on the wall over her shoulder. “My men died. All of them. The biotic students I had with me, officers who had been with me since we came to the Terminus System, some privates fresh out of bootcamp. Everyone under my command, on my strikeforce, on my ship, all of them. Dead.”

“In the memory, I saw your body. I -- the other Shepard -- thought you were dead, but then you reappeared.”

He dropped his forehead into his hands and hunched over the table. “If it’s a bad memory for you and you didn’t even live it, don’t you think it’s worse for me?”

Shepard reached across the table and touched his arm. He didn’t pull away. He released a long, rough breath.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to remember it.”

“Just tell me how you survived.”

His words were quick and clipped. “Bahavm bought me. They were preparing me for . . .”His voice faltered. He took a deep breath. “Preparing me for a control chip. To what end? I don’t even want to imagine. Batarian technology isn’t exactly cutting edge. If he planned to send me back to the Alliance for some purpose, I don’t think it would have passed. Maybe he only wanted my clearances and knowledge. Maybe it was for my biotics or as a fighter. It could have been about humiliating me, using me as a trophy. I . . . I don’t know. Glad I’ll never know.”

“You didn’t have life signs.”

“It’s the holding process before chip insertion. Brain signs, nerve signals, everything has to be offline. You’re dead. Effectively. Deep cryo, not just induced by a stasis pod, but injected with something. My blood was treated. I was sick for months afterward. I didn’t feel it straight off, but it hit me later. I still wonder sometimes. I’ll feel cold for no reason. Really cold, deep inside. Makes me wonder if something deposited into my bones, my marrow. It’s still in my blood.”

“Doctor Quigley brought you out of it?”

“He recognized the pod I was in. He’d seen the procedure when he worked the sandpit clinics. At least, that’s what he said afterward. I woke up like I was in the middle of a nightmare. Still breathing in the gas, yelling at my men, starting to become lightheaded. But now I was staring at the Normandy’s ceiling, in the med bay, the doctor poking at me. The doctor had put me in scrubs. I felt sick, so cold -- I never been so cold -- but all I could think about were my men. They said you were in the cargo bay. No one stood in my way as an admiral. I went into the bay . . .” 

Shepard didn’t speak and let the stillness settle over them. She listened to his clipped breathing.

“I’m glad you lived,” she said at last. “I don't know what I’d do without you here, Kaidan.”

“Sometimes . . .” He straightened and looked her in the eye. “Sometimes I think about the hard calls you made. Virmire and others. As I was on the bridge of that frigate, ducking bullets and returning fire, I thought: Do we surrender? Maybe my men would live. As what though? Slaves or Alliance hostages. Better to die fighting than give the batarians something to use against the Alliance, use to hurt others. But then the gas came. 

“After I woke up, after everything -- what I saw in the cargo bay, the hearings afterward, the settling back in -- after all that, I wondered what could have happened with that control chip. Who I could have hurt, because I made the wrong call somewhere in there. I didn’t save my men. I didn’t save anyone. Worse, except for you saving me, I could have hurt many more. Then I lied to the Alliance Internal Affairs detectives, said I saw nothing, that I was disoriented. I said what Cicero wanted, in the end.” He studied his hands folded on the table. “I came back to Liara. Couldn’t stand myself. It was my biggest failure up to then. I reevaluated everything.”

Shepard reached across the table again and squeezed his hand. He didn’t lift his eyes.

“When I walked into that cargo bay, I think . . .” He hesitated a moment then looked up at her. “I think that’s when the Shepard I thought I knew no longer existed. Not for me.”

“The memory was terrible. Somewhere in all of it -- the violence, everything out of control, lost and wild -- that person’s still me. I can’t accept what I became.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Kaidan smiled softly, “you’re the Shepard I remember.”

A weight lifted in her chest. “Thanks, Kaidan.”

“Yeah.” Kaidan drew his hands away and sat back in his chair. “Can we go back to bed before we’re caught? If being woken up for this horrible conversation wasn’t enough, getting caught . . .” He flashed a smile when he said it.

“When I woke, it felt like it just happened. I needed to see you.” 

“If I dream of your worst memories some night, I’ll return the favor.” He put his chair on the table.

“We didn’t get caught, right? Your credit number is safe.”

“We haven’t made it back yet.” Kaidan took her chair and put it upside down on the table.

“Still wiping up signs of my curfew rebellion?” Shepard waved at the chair.

Kaidan glanced around them and kept his voice low. “Do you think the kitchen’s locked?”

“I thought you wanted to go back to bed?”

“I’m hungry. May as well get something out of this. Something material, I mean.”

“Now who’s looking for adrenaline?” 

“Come on.” Kaidan moved toward the kitchen. “Fair warning, if we’re caught making sandwiches -- the light flips on and someone gasps -- I’m throwing you over my shoulder and proclaiming I caught the bandit. Vigilante style.”

Shepard chuckled. “And the half-eaten sandwich in your hand?”

“They don’t have my dental records. Could be your half-eaten sandwich. Got the perp and the evidence in one swipe.” 

“Uh huh.” Shepard watched him check the lock on the door. “Then I’ll outdo you before the light even comes on. Minute we’re in there, I’m writing on the wall in chocolate syrup ‘Alenko was here.’”

“I’ll add ‘NOT’ in chocolate syrup.”

“Alenko was NOT here?”

“Yep.”

The button in the center of the door lit up. Green. 

“Access granted.” Kaidan smiled back at her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Violence, blood, and non-graphic torture (italics section)


	23. Thessia

**CHAPTER 5: Thessia**

Kaidan sat beside her in the nook just off the civilian ship’s mess hall. He fidgeted, checking and rechecking his Omni-Tool, and then finally got up and started pacing. Thessia appeared in the porthole. Kaidan nearly pressed his nose to the glass looking at it. They hit the atmosphere with a shutter. The blackness of space bled away into blue skies, clouds, and a pink sunrise of Armali.

“Want to get in line?” Shepard asked.

“Sure,” Kaidan said idly, still looking out the window. 

Shepard hadn’t even stood up, before his bag was snatched off the floor and he was out the door. Within minutes, they landed.

Carrying their bags, they spilled onto the dock in a herd of passengers. Shepard wasn’t sure of the plan. At some point, they needed to go to the bank and retrieve the Red DataKey. No doubt Kaidan’s restless energy was in thinking of his other reason for being here. He’d want to go to Eithelia’s house and see his daughter first. Shepard chuckled watching him wind through the crowd towards customs. Kaidan was already a speck rounding the corner up ahead. 

She trailed the last people from their ship into the open-air customs area. There were lines for each gate. The city spread out beyond the gateway. The open floor was crowded with people just arriving and those departing. 

A shadow moved on the edge of her vision. A chill prickled up her spine. The feel of someone watching her. She turned sharply, but the shadow had already receded into the crowd. Perhaps she’d only imagined it.

The setting sunlight made her blink. She turned back to the city unfolding before her along the pier: golden twilight blue skies, glittering ivory skyscrapers, splashes of fuchsia and green vegetation along pearly walkways. The breeze, under the port fumes of stardust and ship exhaust, carried the aromatic freshness unique to Thessia: a fusion of exotic flowers, cucumber, and mint in one uniquely Thessian scent. The faint tickle of eezo was pleasant as always. 

There was something different about Armali from the last time she was here. The skycar traffic was sparse. The docking station, now that she looked down the row of gates, was smaller than it should be. The skyline was short and lacked depth. The ground traffic on the walkways was slow and quiet in the distance. The luxury ground cruisers that usually swarmed the docks picking up VIPs were absent. The buzz and energy of commerce, life, and rebuilding wasn’t there.

“Shepard, there you are.” Kaidan came back through the crowd.

Two asaris in station uniforms were checking the newcomers’ credentials. They moved with a dull-eyed efficiency, checking documents on everyone’s Omni-Tool, and scanning biometrics. The customs agents barely met Shepard’s eyes, only looking up when she greeted them. Even then, she only got a muted smile that faded back to blank detachment.

Shepard turned to Kaidan after they were waved through. “How much are the asari still paying in tribute to the Council?”

“I don’t know the amount. Five hundred years was the agreement.”

They were waved through into the port lobby and toward the exit. Plumb-colored blossoms flushed the teal-colored leaves bordering their path. The port station was beautiful, but nothing like the jewel-colored marble pillars and platinum flooring she was used to walking along this route. Where were the towering fountains? Where were the blown glass sculptures? Where were the stringed instruments playing softly in the corner? 

“Look at this place. The lack of activity, the stunted rebuilding, no one seems happy.”

“Government-employed custom agents? What do you expect?”

“Not just them. Granted, it may have been the excitement of a Councilor’s visit, but everyone was a lot happier last time I was here. The city’s skyline was four times this size, bursting and frenetic skycars. The technology guilds and biotic research companies were booming. I was in Armali a whole week, and I didn’t have enough time to tour all the R&D labs or meet all the guild innovators.”

“The guilds are having a hard time. Even the Alliance is out pacing them with biotic technologies. Resources are limited in Armali for counterintelligence or for recruitment of those top of their field.” 

A line had already formed at the skycar queue outside the building. Two asari with metallic lipstick stood against the far wall looking bored. They checked their Omni-Tools, either for messages or the time. One scanned her eyes over the crowd. Her eyes stopped on Kaidan. She tapped the asari next to her who looked over sharply. There was a private skycar next to them, but they didn’t seem interested in drawing Kaidan’s attention or selling a ride. When Shepard met their eyes, they looked away sharply and started admiring a lacy fern in the pot next to them.

“Did you have a driver coming?” Shepard asked.

“We should make a plan first and then get in line for a car. We can hit the bank tomorrow morning. I need to be somewhere tonight.”

Reluctantly, Shepard drew her eyes away from the fern-admirers. “Tomorrow’s fine.”

Kaidan typed something into his Omni-Tool. The two asari were watching them again. Shepard faced them full-on with a frown, and they looked away. They didn’t give her the dark chill of whatever she’d felt back in customs, but she didn’t like their obvious interest. Kaidan held his Tool out for her to do likewise. Absently, she put her arm out. 

“Here, Shepard. The key and address to our – uh, _my_ apartment.” A slight frown pinched his brow on the correction. “I’ll contact you tomorrow.”

“And you?” She pulled her arm back and checked that the information had transferred.

“I’ll stay with Eithelia. I don’t want to disrupt Leida’s schedule.”

“ _You_ don’t want to disrupt Leida’s schedule, or _Eithelia_ doesn’t want you to disrupt Leida’s schedule?”

“Let’s get in line.” Kaidan ushered her into the back of the queue. He checked the time on his Omni-Tool, like he’d been doing since they got within range of Thessia.

“Is something actually scheduled? Or just impatient?” Shepard asked.

“Eithelia is having a garden party at her estate. A gala. I was hoping to get there before it started, but . . .”

“What does Liara’s aunt do exactly?” Shepard stepped forward with the line. “She’s a matriarch, I assume?”

“An influential one. Spends days in legislature debating policies, furthering asari interests.”

“A politician?”

“A matriarch. The asari don’t have government officials as we understand it.”

“I realize that. Sounds like she’s used to getting her way then being a matriarch and political.” Shepard stepped forward again. They were almost to the skycar console terminal.

Kaidan studied her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t judge Eithelia based on what I’ve said. She’s imposing, strict even, but she always cared about Liara. And she cares about the Asari Republic.”

“And she cares about Leida?” 

Kaidan nodded.

“And she cares about you?”

Kaidan looked away. The couple in front of them piled into the same skycar. Shepard watched him type Eithelia’s address into the destination terminal.

“Kaidan.” Shepard waited until he looked over at her. “Don’t let her--”

“I haven’t decided yet, Shepard.” It was firm but not harsh. 

“All right,” she agreed. She knew the tone. “Well, thanks for the key.”

A skycar dropped from the sky, and Kaidan walked forward to meet it. The two metal-lipped asari had already crawled inside their private skycar. The lights flared on, and it rose off the landing slowly. Kaidan crawled into the skycar.

“I’ll contact you tomorrow about the bank,” he called to Shepard and then shut the door.

“Are you going?” the salarian behind Shepard prompted and waved at the terminal. 

Kaidan’s skycar turned into the city. The private skycar flashed after it. Shepard’s breathing tightened. She punched an address into the skycar terminal. It wasn’t the address Kaidan had given her. It was the one she’d read over his shoulder. Eithelia’s address. If the two asari planned to follow Kaidan, then she’d follow them. She meant what she said to Miranda. No one was going to harm him. 

***

It appeared some Thessians were prospering after all. Eithelia’s estate was stunning. Shepard popped open the skycar hatch, dufflebag over her shoulder, and jumped onto the gravel unloading zone. A forest of silver-barked trees hugged the multi-terraced house. The gate to the garden was crowded with guests and attendants. In the background, candlelight and an instrumental overture mixed with tinkling laughter and sound of glassware. 

Asari shuttles stood empty and parked against the wall, while more skycars dropped guests off in front of the house. The skycar at the end of the closest row was the same private skycar she’d seen at the station. Two shapes walking away from it turned into the shadows along the house. Shepard slipped after them. A narrow gravel pathway under the canopy of trees hugged the house. It led away from the garden, which only added to her suspicion. 

Unfortunately, she was apparently less stealthy than them. Footsteps pounded after her from the gravel drop off area. An asari grabbed Shepard’s arm.

“Ma’am?”

“Let go!” Shepard pushed the woman away, but the figures she had been following were already vanished. “Dammit. I was following someone.”

“I only see you. Guests aren’t invited to explore the ground,” the asari said and grabbed Shepard’s arm in a vice this time. “May I see your invitation?”

The asari dragged Shepard back to the lantern light in front of the garden gate. It was crowded with sleekly-dressed asari and their dates. The asari who had grabbed her eyed Shepard up and down with a condescending chin lift. 

Shepard ripped her arm away. “You’ve got more guests than me getting lost. Two people were running along the house.”

“I’m not even convinced you are a guest.” The asari pointed at Shepard’s Omni-Tool. “Show me your invitation, or I’ll have you thrown off the property. We’re outside the city. It will be a long walk.”

“I . . .” Shepard looked past the asari at the other guests flashing their invitations to gain admittance. 

“Invitation?” the asari said testily and turned on her comm as if to call for assistance.

“She is with me.” The male voice had an accent that made Shepard’s lips curve up in a smile.

“Javik!” She spun around.

It was him. He strutted from the drop off pad, head held high like a king, four eyes already regarding her with long-suffering tolerance. 

“This is your date, Excellence?” The asari’s posture stiffened with respectful formality. “I apologize.”

“Interspecies relations with her kind are futile. She is an acquaintance of no reproductive interest.”

“Oh, of course, your Excellence.” The asari inclined her head and retreated back to the gate. 

“An acquaintance of no reproductive interest?” Shepard echoed with a smile. “Javik, you sweet talker.”

Javik wore a velvety red suit and a regal sneer. “An unexpected encounter, Commander. Your behavior contradicts attendance as the Matriarch's legitimate guest.”

“My cargo pants give it away?”

“Your demeanor suggested an impending physical altercation with staff.”

“You look nice.” Shepard turned back to inspect the shadows against the house. “Like to catch up and all, Javik, but I have two asari I’m tracking.”

“The two asari you hunt have gone inside the residence.”

“How do you know? My quarry was running down that dark hedge. Probably haven’t gotten too far. Now if--”

“You will waste your time.” Javik lifted his chin high. “I do not understand how evolution favored two eyes in this cycle. In my time, hunting asari in the dark required sharp eyes, or you did not eat.”

“They weren’t on my dinner menu. I thought you only ate salarians. You’re sure they went inside the house? How? Climbed through a window?”

“A door. What else?” Javik turned toward the garden gate.

Shepard scampered after him. “They took a service door? I didn’t see any light? How’d they override the lock?”

“You defeat the reapers in your cycle. In my cycle, even if you had four eyes, you would starve.”

“That’s not an answer.” 

The asari guests unloading from skycars in their finery and floral perfumes scanned over her outfit and pursed their lips. Shepard glared at them then squinted into the shadows along the house again. She didn’t have four eyes, but the two she had told her Javik could be right. They were long gone.

“You’re saying they walked right in?” Shepard asked.

The asari standing in line gawked at Javik’s approach. They tripped over themselves to stand aside. If the asari weren’t outside the party, then they were somewhere inside of it. Shepard slipped her arm under Javik’s elbow and flashed the stupefied asari a float-wave type smile. Javik grimaced at her fingers curling into his sleeve, but he brought her along with him directly to the front of the line. The dufflebag on Shepard’s shoulder gave the gate attendants pause. 

“So, Javik, you want to put those four eyes to good use?” Shepard shrugged the bag off her shoulder and tossed it past the attendant into a pile of coats. “We can pretend it's your cycle, and we’re both really hungry. We have food to catch.”

“I think not,” Javik said.

The opposite gate attendant, the one who had apprehended Shepard earlier, reached for Javik’s jacket. He flicked the asari’s fingers away and pulled Shepard straight past them into the greenery and sequined glitter of gowns and cocktails. He hadn’t even shown them his invitation. 

A string of asari waiters came by. They offered her silver plates piled with a kaleidoscope of berries, lacy pastries, and small meats twisted into the shape of blossoms. Champagne bubbled in the guest’s flute glasses as effervescent as the conversation and laughter. The lawn was well-trimmed and mossy, the shrubbery immaculate, the air floral. Candles lit the pebbled pathways. 

It was a silent auction apparently. Towering statues and metal gadgets dotted various intersections in the mosaic of walkways. A holoscreen showed the current bid price. They passed a crowd of asari chattering around a metallic chalice-looking sculpture with dusty gears and about the size of Shepard herself.

“That looks Prothean. These are artefacts?” Shepard craned her neck to study the artefacts. 

“They have been donated to the academy. The academy auctions them now to raise funding. Matriarch Eithelia is a guild supporter.”

“Huh,” Shepard said.

The garden was already crowded. Even more guests were continuing to file in. Most of the guests were asari with a few plus ones, bondmates of different species. The two asari Shepard had been chasing were nowhere in sight. Kaidan wasn’t easily visible either. If he stumbled on her unexpectedly in the soiree, it might not go well. She frowned and flipped up her Omni-Tool screen. Holding back information from him wasn’t going to help their tenuous friendship.

“Omni-Tools are not allowed.” An asari stepped in front of Shepard. “Pictures and recordings are prohibited.” 

“You’re in luck then,” Shepard said. “I’m sending a text message.”

“I’m sorry. You will be escorted out if you insist on using your Omni-Tool.”

“Okay. Fine.” Shepard slammed the send button on her message and turned off her Omni-Tool.

“Appreciated,” the asari said frostily and inclined her head at Javik. “Good to see you, your Excellence.”

She left in a rustle of silks. Javik gave Shepard a tired look and lifted a glass of champagne off the plate of a passing server.

“You humans are very modifiable. These asari do not recognize you. Changing your head has worked if that was your goal.”

“Just my hair, your Excellence,” Shepard said. “Think those asari I’m after are inside the house?”

“That’s what I told you, did I not?”

They meandered past a dozen asari clustered around one of the sculptures. Bronze and silver metal braided around an onyx sphere that could have been a person-sized bowling ball. Javik’s feet caught on the pathway as they brushed past it. He stared back at it.

“Like that one?” Shepard asked.

Javik’s head snapped forward. He bumped into a pair of asari, who turned with sharp frowns that melted into apologies for being in his way. He paid them no heed, lifting his chin, and striding forward down the garden path.

“You recognize that artefact?” Shepard asked.

“These other pieces of my people are empty. No memories. Dead. But not that one.”

“The black sphere? What is it?”

“It reeks of death. Pain, despair, destruction. It is an Obsture. A biotic radar tool you primitives have yet to discover.”

“And it killed people?”

“It was on a battlefield. There was much death. Even now, it echoes. I do not like it being here.”

“Everything’s being auctioned off. It will be gone soon enough.”

They passed another sculpture, a metallic barrel with ivory stones inset around the rim. It would be the height of Shepard’s waist if it hadn’t been on a pillar for display.

“And that?” Shepard asked.

“Stored our bodily waste on land campaigns.”

“A latrine?” Shepard chuckled watching four asari fawning over it. The tallest asari almost had her head inside of it to study the rocks along the rim. The plaque caught her eye. “Wait. The late Dr. T’Soni’s Collection. Dedicated by Kaidan Alenko. All of these are -- were -- hers?” A lump grew in her throat.

“You do need four eyes.”

“They’re auctioning off Liara’s Prothean artefacts? All her work . . .”

“The biotic guilds are desperate for technology. Fifty thousand years, our technology still exceeds yours. These things will be dismantled, destroyed like refuse of the past, to unlock secrets. Secret technology has more worth than history.”

Shepard checked her Omni-Tool discreetly. No messages. Javik eyed an artefact across the garden from them. A series of levers at the bottom gave the artefact a squid-like appearance.

“They are too close to the levers.” Javik’s shoulders tensed. “The siren it makes will destroy the glassware.” 

Shepard ignored that. “You remember Kaidan Alenko, right? Served on the Normandy with us. Do your four eyes spy him anywhere?”

“Dr. T’Soni’s bondmate? The human male? No.”

“Time we part company then. I need to find more than Prothean art.”

“Your pheromones suggest you are interested in mating.”

Shepard’s attention snapped back to Javik. “Those two asari were following Kaidan for a reason, probably a bad one. No one’s mating.”

“I did not say there would be mating. Only that you desire it.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes and stepped in closer to him. “You’ve been living in our culture -- what? -- twelve years now? You really think that’s a smart thing to say?”

“You primitives. You limit robust procreation potential by arbitrary mating rituals. You require emotion and sentiment instead of optimizing genetic compatibility.”

“And you’re so much better? I don’t see you robustly procreating.”

“Dr. T’Soni was above standard relative to her asari contemporaries. I am the last of a superior race that her people worshiped. Yet my offer to copulate was met with hostility, especially by the human male. How he, an unremarkable primitive, reserved procreation rights over a Prothean warrior, god of her people, is unfathomable.”

“What?” Shepard covered her mouth with a laugh. “You asked to sleep with Liara?”

“I proposed mentally and physically intermingling ourselves in a way to best conceive.”

“Got shot down hard?”

“Dr. T’Soni’s mate epitomizes the primitive shortsightedness. I recommend you deny your hormonal impulses to mate with him. The resultant offspring would be delayed and irrational, limiting your lifetime reproductive success.”

“Noted. Now, I know you risk getting thrown out, but message me if you see those asari.”

“These asari would not dare throw me out. I see your other quarry. There.”

Shepard followed his eyes. Tiptoeing, she peered through the crowd of heads. Arms crossed and shaking his head was a familiar form. He was speaking to a tall, regal-looking asari in a shimmering platinum dress.

Javik sighed. “Your pheromones are surging.”

“Stop sniffing my pheromones. Enjoy the party.” 

Shepard dodged through the crowd, a mix of blue-skinned asari and an assortment of mate species. She skimmed along the outskirt. A hedge of well-trimmed, red-lead bushes bordered the forest. The dark canopy of trees spread out beyond it. She still had the heavy feel of someone watching from the shadows. She squinted but couldn’t see anything through the silver trunks, mix of greens and golds, all veiled by the night. Paranoia. 

Fresh forest air pulled deep into her lungs. She was just jumpy about the two asari. They had to be in the house or mingling in the party, not watching her from the woods. Shepard continued down the hedge to where the crowd thinned, and she spotted Kaidan again. 

Kaidan stood on the outskirts of the lawn near the trees with a regally dressed asari. Her skin bordered more on purple than blue, and she had light markings circling her eyes. Kaidan had his back to Shepard, gloomily surveying the crowd, and shifting from foot to foot. The asari noticed Shepard approaching over Kaidan’s shoulder. She eyed Shepard with a curious expression.

“Good evening,” Shepard said.

Kaidan snapped around to face her, like he’d been stuck in the back of the neck with a hot iron. 

“Didn’t get my message, huh?” She pointed at the message light blinking on his Omni-Tool.

His posture stiffened. “What are you doing here?”

The asari’s eyes shifted between them. “You know this human?”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

“Shepard.” She put her hand out

The asari eyed her hand curiously before shaking it. “Commander Shepard? The illustrious war hero? Kaidan, Eithelia didn’t tell me you had someone accompanying you. How nice.”

“I don’t,” Kaidan said with a bite. “How did you get in here?”

“You’re not Eithelia then?” Shepard asked.

“Irissa. I am Eithelia’s bondmate. We’ve been together many years.”

An asari bondmate? A rare thing. Not a culturally acceptable union for procreation purposes.

“Excuse us.” Kaidan grabbed Shepard by the arm and dragged her a few steps away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? You followed me?”

“Followed two asari actually. But, full disclosure, they were following you. So, you’re not wrong.”

“Two asari?” Kaidan eyed the forest and then the crowd.

“They disappeared into the house. His Excellency got me admitted as his acquaintance of no reproductive interest. Also, known as his plus one. I haven’t seen them since. I messaged you.”

Kaidan touched the flashing light on his ‘Tool. “I couldn’t check my Omni-Tool.” 

“I got the same finger wagging.”

Kaidan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I didn’t ask you here, Shepard. I noticed a couple of asari following me from the station, but this is a big event. It could mean anything.”

“Not the way they were watching you. And they didn’t join the party.”

Kaidan’s mouth set into a hard line. 

“What’s going on here?” Shepard waved around them. “This _is_ Eithelia’s house, right?”

“This is a charity event for the Armali Academy. Eithelia and Irissa love hosting this stuff.”

“I saw Prothean artefacts you’d donated.”

“Yeah . . .” Kaidan crossed his arms. “If I left, do you think they’d follow?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them again. Javik said they entered a service entrance.”

Kaidan checked the time on his ‘Tool. He went back to Irissa. 

She was squinting into the crowd with a severe expression. “That’s not Tevos, is it? We chose this day specifically because we knew she had engagements elsewhere.”

“I don’t know,” Kaidan said tiredly. “When is Eithelia coming out? You’ve kept me waiting for an hour.”

“Patience. You humans are so impatient.” Irissa returned her attention to the crowd. “If Tevos wants to parade around here like royalty, then I’m turning in for the night. She never should have been councilor. Someone else would represent our people better.”

“I’m going inside to look for Eithelia. And, that doesn’t look like Tevos to me.”

Irissa squinted. “Perhaps not. I hope not.”

Kaidan brushed past Shepard. “Let’s go. I can’t stay here if there are people following me. I still need the bank key from the safe, and they won’t let me upstairs without Eithelia’s permission. She likes to make an entrance.”

“Fashionably late to your own party? Seems a bit dramatic.”

“Yep.”

They crossed into a moonlit garden hugging the back of the house. The trail was overgrown and abundant with white blossoms. It would have been quaint and intimate, except for the sprawling mansion it bordered. The asari attendants at the door seemed to recognize Kaidan and let him pass.

“Posh,” Shepard gawked when they entered the house.

Towering ceilings, hand-painted flowers on the walls, hardwood floors that echoed, and an unholy amount of gold detailing on a long row of chandeliers leading to the grand hall. It was a palace.

“I’m not being ironic by saying I’m awestruck.” Shepard turned in circles as she followed him down the hallway.

“What did you expect from the outside?”

The entrance hall was brightly lit and massive. It looked like a place singers would clamor to practice to admire the deep acoustics. Stained glass windows and rose-colored wood reminded Shepard of a cathedral. A sweeping staircase was the centerpiece. It was roped off with severe-looking asari standing to either side.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Alenko,” the closest asari said. “You still may not go up.”

“Ah, Kaidan, dear.” The voice came from above, feminine, but a baritone, sexy-sounding perhaps not without design.

An asari stood above them on the staircase’s landing, her hand on the railing, and posed to highlight the long train of her dramatic red gown. She was remarkably tall with deep cobalt-colored markings. She was obviously proud of her feminine assets and played them off in a way not dissimilar to Benezia’s own fashion choices.

“Allow them passage,” she said.

Kaidan stepped over the rope and dashed up the stairs. Shepard followed a step behind. When they reached the landing, it was obvious Shepard hadn’t overestimated the asari’s height. She was taller than Kaidan. Imposing.

“Ah, Spectre Shepard,” she said. “An unexpected pleasure. Irissa messaged me you were here.” 

“Matriarch Eithelia. Shepard.” Kaidan introduced quickly. “Eithelia, I need--”

“Tsk, tsk.” Eithelia patted Kaidan’s cheek with her palm. “What kind of greeting is that?”

“We need to kiss your ring or something?” Shepard said flatly.

Kaidan gave Shepard a sharp look. Eithelia gave her an allowing smile of pearly moon-stoned teeth.

“It’s good to see you, Eithelia,” Kaidan greeted.

“Better.” Eithelia kissed the side of Kaidan’s face in a showy welcome. She patted his cheek again. “My dear, you look so run down.”

“I’ve been trying to see you. No one would let me up.”

“I know, dear. I was still preparing. You gave such short notice on the time to expect you. You had Irissa, the most charming guest at the party, to entertain you. Yet, you complain?”

“I enjoyed catching up with Irissa and with Thessian politics, but I came straight from the dock to see Leida. And I need something else. You still have Liara’s safe with her other things?”

“My darling, of course. But I can’t let you get straight to business without noting your agitation. You’re so abrupt. Our last conversation is still bothering you. I can tell. I am happy to revisit it. When you’re available, of course.”

Kaidan paled. “No. Not now. I need to get to the safe.”

“By all means. I can have your belongings brought to your room. Perhaps Spectre Shepard’s belongings as well?”

“What? No.” Kaidan’s voice clapped. 

Eithelia’s eyes widened at his forcefulness.

“Eithelia.” Shepard stepped in closer. “Have any suspicious guests been reported? I followed two asari here. They entered through a service entrance.”

“A service entrance, you say? I have a great quantity of extra staff hired for the evening.”

“Spectre Alenko and I are on Council business. The two asari who followed us here could be related to our work. I’d have your security team check for them.”

“Don’t fret.” Eithelia put a hand on Kaidan’s arm. “No one is permitted upstairs. I assure you it’s safe for Leida. She has a rotation of three governess who are with her at all times. She’s fast asleep.”

“She’s already asleep?” Kaidan dropped his eyes to the floor. “When I arrived, it wasn’t that late. You made me wait. If I had been let up . . .”

Eithelia had a trill laugh and a sympathetic frown. “If I had only had a better approximation when you’d arrive. No one told me you were waiting to see her. You can see the chaos of a reception of this size. I’m afraid she’s quite tucked in.”

“Hmm. All right.” Kaidan folded his arms sluggishly and kept his face bowed to the floor.

“Her studies at the academy are rigorous and require early mornings. She’s only four. She needs her sleep. You understand that.”

“I need to see the safe,” Kaidan repeated, but his voice had grown distant and monotoned.

“A simple thing to arrange. And Spectre Shepard will accompany us to the safe, I take it?”

“We’re working together, like she said. She’s with me.”

“This way then.” Eithelia curled her finger for him to follow and sauntered up the stairs to the next floor. “The safe is down this hall. Your room will be the other wing. One floor up and and on the other side of the house.”

“I’m not staying.”

“Because of your perceived stalkers? I suppose anything is possible. Perhaps it’s best to be cautious.”

Shepard fell in beside Kaidan. He kept his eyes forward with a hardened neutrality to his expression. Eithelia lead them down a long dim hallway. The soft light of the moon outside the windows brightened their steps. The sounds of the party died away the further they walked.

“The auction has received enormous attention from Prothean enthusiasts,” Eithelia said, looking over her shoulder at them. “Your donations will go a long way to restoring Armali’s academy. The guilds are offering handsome prices.”

“I thought the academy would preserve the artefacts for educational purposes. I wasn’t expecting Liara’s collection to be pawned off, Eithelia. I think you knew that.”

Eithelia rolled her eyes and gave the trill laugh again. “My dear, once you donate something it’s gifted. No strings, as it should be. The academy board knows how best to meet their current needs. For now, it’s credits.”

“I’m sure the biotic guilds know how best to meet their current needs too? You’re on both boards, Eithelia.”

Eithelia pressed a finger to her lips and nodded up ahead at a row of doors along the hall. An asari stood up from a plush chair positioned next to a remarkable looking door. The door was gold. Inset were etchings of wild roses.

“Matriarch,” the asari spoke in a whisper and bowed her head respectfully.

“All quiet?” Eithelia asked in an equal whisper.

“Fast asleep.”

Eithelia gave Kaidan a meaningful look as if the exchange reinforced Eithelia’s concerns about waking the child.

“Fancy door,” Shepard kept her voice low.

Eithelia moved them down to the next doorway, a blank wood door like all the rest. 

“That was Little Wing’s room,” Eithelia said softly. “Not so long ago.”

The door opened to a small room with desk furniture pushed into the corner to make room for storage containers. A copper-colored safe took up the back corner. Kaidan crossed the room and pressed his palm to the door. The door lit up in bright light. A scanning beam flared down his body.

“You and Benezia were close?” Shepard waited beside Eithelia.

“At one time, very much. Benezia was much older than me, or so it felt at the time. She was so wise and polished.” Eithelia glanced sideways at her. “I understand you were with her at the end.”

Shepard resisted the urge to look away from her sharp eyes. “It was tragic. I know Liara hurt deeply over it.”

“Liara.” Eithelia’s voice faded out, and she looked away. “Benezia left her with me at the age of ten. Benezia was an important person and very busy. I oversaw Liara’s schooling, even through her years at the academy. I encouraged her to join the biotic guilds. She had the intelligence and ambition, but she loved archeology. Her interests were academic more than application.”

“Her background in Prothean technology helped win the war. I think it had pretty heavy application.”

Eithelia’s lips turned up in a soft smile. “I can see that now. She was so bright. Curious, independent, full of thought and wonder. Leida’s so much like her.”

Kaidan yanked at the safe’s door, but it flashed red. He reentered a code on the door’s panel.

“Leida was splashing in the garden fountains last week,” Eithelia said. “I raised my voice too sharply. She started to cry. When I lifted her up, she wrapped her arms around my arm just above the elbow as Liara used to do when she was in trouble. Even the last time I saw Liara, she hugged my arm that way as she used to. She always greeted me this way, a quick squeeze above my elbow.”

Kaidan threw open the door of the safe. It smacked the wall making Eithelia frown at him. He dug around the bottom of the safe looking through small boxes. He pulled out a larger metal box and dug through it next. 

“Liara means a lot to me.” Shepard turned her attention back to Eithelia. “She’s always been there for me, even when I haven’t always returned the favor.”

Eithelia’s smile widened. “Benezia was the same way with me. Always kind. Always there for me. Leida is so much like Liara, but she has Benezia’s raw determination. She has Benezia’s thoughtfulness, introspection, a concern for the welfare of others before herself. The ones I loved and who are lost live on in Leida. She’s the embodiment of Liara and Benezia both.”

Kaidan slammed the metal box into the safe. He wasn’t gentle with the small boxes he threw in after it. He held a transparent keycard up in the light, and satisfied, put it in his pocket. When he drew his hand from the pocket, he had something. 

“I almost forgot.” He held his palm out to Eithelia. “These are Liara’s rings. They’re for Leida when she’s old enough. I’m leaving them in the safe.”

Eithelia toed closer. Her eyes grew wide. 

“Benezia’s ring! You’ve had it the entire time. It’s a family keepsake. It’s been in the family for millennials.”

“I kept it for--”

“I shall give it to her.” She snatched the rings from his hand. “You should have told me you had it, my dear. I thought perhaps it had been lost. This must go to Leida. It’s a part of who she is, the heritage of her family who made her. Liara, Benezia, and many before. What . . . What is this?” Eithelia pinched the diamond ring in between her fingers and held it up.

“Liara’s wedding ring.” Kaidan shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a human trad--”

“We’ll keep that, too, of course. Should she want it.” 

Eithelia moved to the safe. She tossed the diamond ring absently among the boxes on the bottom of the safe. She pulled a piece of cloth out of her dress pocket and wrapped the opal ring in repeating folds. The desk drawers had a small box. She dumped out the writing utensils and laid the cloth-wrapped ring inside of it.

“I hope there’s nothing else you’ve forgotten to share.” Eithelia gently rested the small box in the middle of the safe’s top shelf. “If you have items to remind Leida of her family, you must tell me.”

“I have nothing else.” Kaidan set his jaw. He avoided Shepard’s eyes studying his profile.

Eithelia shut the safe with a click. “I suppose you must go now, my dear? You didn’t want to tarry, did you? You’re concerned about bringing danger from your work into Leida’s safe home.”

“Let’s go, Kaidan.” Shepard touched his arm.

The floorboards creaked in the hallway outside the door. 

“Daddy?” 

Kaidan head whipped to the door. The asari woman from the plush chair in the hallway buzzed in the doorway. A small blue-skinned child gaped at them from under the nanny’s shadow. A stuffed hanar dangled by one tentacle in her hand. 

“Hey, sweetie.” Kaidan rushed the distance in two long strides and scooped her into his arms. 

Eithelia shot the flushed asari in the doorway a sharp look.

“She just woke up and came running out” The asari gave the explanation in a rush. :She must have heard you talking.” 

The girl wrapped her blue arms around Kaidan’s neck. Her hanar plushie dropped forgotten on the floor. Kaidan turned back to the room with her in his arms. Her face buried in his neck.

“Leida. You’re supposed to sleeping, my darling.” Eithelia sighed.

Kaidan rubbed Leida’s back and pressed a kiss to the crest above her forehead. It was a familiar gesture Shepard has seen a thousand times with Avyn at that size. Pain lance through the chest. She snatched the hanar toy off the floor. Large blue eyes turned to watch her. They were Liara’s eyes.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Kaidan whispered against Leida’s forehead.

Her blue eyes rolled up to his face, and she pawed at his cheek. He caught her hand, despite a whiny protest, and kissed her palm.

He shook his head. “Later.”

Shepard offered the hanar squishy to Leida. Kaidan turned Leida in his arms so she could grab it.

“Leida, this is my friend Shepard.”

“Hi, Leida.”

Leida studied Shepard solemnly then stretched out her hand. Shepard stepped closer, but the hanar slid past Leida’s hand. Leida strained to touch Shepard’s face.

“No.” Kaidan caught Leida’s hand again. He pinched the hanar plushie from Shepard’s hand with his pinkie and curled Leida’s rogue hand back to his chest. 

“She’s going to be too stimulated to fall asleep.” Eithelia’s voice dropped its saccharine tone for the first time. “She has early classes.”

“Having a party outside probably doesn’t help,” Kaidan said mildly, but not without pointedness in his glance. He pressed another kiss to Leida’s forehead and carried her out the door. 

Eithelia rushed after him. “She needs to rest.”

By the time Shepard wandered into the hall behind them, they had all disappeared through the golden door. Shepard hung back with her back against the wall.The hall was deserted in both directions. No sign of the two asari stalkers. Perhaps they were just extra workers after all. 

The landing pad outside was still receiving guests from a stream of skycars. The party was still in full swing with party lights and a line of servers coming in and out of the house. Shepard’s eyes drifted to the dark canopy of the trees. She shivered. The shadowy feeling of being watched. She moved back from the window. 

A wail exploded from the room. Shepard’s attention snapped back to the golden door. The scream built, dipping and falling with a mounting burst of tearful blubber. Kaidan appeared at the door. The wailing sharpened behind him. Eithelia was on his heels. The nanny was remaining inside the room apparently. 

Eithelia shut the door carefully behind the cutting off the screaming. Kaidan looked pale and unsteady. He stared past Eithelia at the door. Another sharp cry made Kaidan’s face pinch, and he looked about ready to reach for the door.

“She really does need her rest, my dear. So sorry.” Eithelia drew him down the hall by the arm.

Kaidan pulled his arm away sharply, but continued forward. “I’ll see her before I leave Thessia. You can tell her that.”

“Certainly, my dear. How long do you anticipate staying?’.

“Forty-eight hours. Maybe not even that.” His voice sounded dead. 

He kept his eyes on the floor as they retreated from the penetrating cries. His pace picked up speed. Shepard had to trot to keep up with him. Eithelia glided along beside him with renewed brightness.

“Such a short stay. Pity. I imagine you’re needed on Orian Station then?”

“We’re accompanying Councilor Tevos on a diplomatic meeting.” He outpaced them with an intentional quickness to his step. Eithelia fell back with Shepard and watched him disappearing down the hall.

“And then back to Orian Station no doubt,” Eithelia said to Shepard. Her voice had a blithe lift to it. “I imagine he needs to return to his station in the Terminus System. A dangerous place.”

“I don’t know,” Shepard said with an edge. “Either way, I’m sure he’ll be by again to see his daughter.”

With that, Shepard sped after him. The image of Kaidan holding Leida still burned in her vision. It was so familiar: Leida’s head tucked under Kaidan’s chin, her little hands clutching his shirt, legs swinging contentedly. At least wherever Avyn was now Kaidan was there with her. He would take care of her. Shepard could rest knowing that much.

*** 

Shepard thanked the coat checker at the garden party’s entrance. She pulled the dufflebag’s strap up higher on her shoulder and stepped in beside Kaidan. Eithelia’s mansion radiated a soft glow over the pebbled landing area. The air was moist and cool and floral, like it always was on Thessia.

Kaidan’s dufflebag rested at his feet. Shepard didn’t even remember him getting it. One of the asari attendants at the gate had called them a cab. Kaidan scanned the sky for it, but his gaze seemed far away.

“You know you’re at a hot party when it’s added to the city’s skycar route for the evening,” Shepard said lightly.

Kaidan nodded absently. A skycar was approaching, and he steered her out of the way of the oncoming foot traffic. 

“Are we really going to the bank right now?” Shepard asked him. “You know ‘banker hours’ isn’t just a saying.”

“This isn’t your typical bank. It opens early.”

Shepard’s eyes strayed to the forest again. It was too dark to make anything out. The musical cords of insects and far off laughter drowned away under the hum of a skycar. It dropped onto the landing pad.

The couple hopping out of the skycar had obviously already started their party. The two asari staggered against each other and smelled like alcohol. They seemed the type you’d discover in the morning sleeping on your couch. Shepard turned to say something about it to Kaidan, but he had already climbed into the empty skycar. He entered a destination onto the screen. 

“That doesn’t look like a bank address,” Shepard noted, climbing inside. She closed the hatch. “You’re entering a few scenic stops and switchbacks?”

Kaidan nodded, eyes still on the menu screen. The skycar lifted, and he slumped back in his seat. It was a silent ride. Shepard studied the dim outlines of the skycars behind them. If they were being followed, she couldn’t tell. The route had too much traffic.

She sat back in her seat with a thunk and studied Kaidan out of the corner of her eye. His face was turned away, cheek against the headrest, and staring out his window. A classic Kaidan sign for wanting to be alone. He was in the self-stewing stage of being upset. Shepard took his hand from his lap. It was so reflexive, she did it before thinking it through.

His face jerked to her with a sharp frown. She didn’t try to interlock their fingers or pull his hand any closer than the free space between their seats. Instead, her fingers curled nonchalantly around his hand. She met the flint in his eyes with a weak smile. He may not want comfort from her. He could wrench his hand away, but at least this way, he had the option.

Placidly, she relaxed back into her seat, still holding his hand, and turned her face against the headrest. She gazed indifferently out her window. Below the cool, she felt far from indifferent. Every nerve fiber strained to sense the feel of his hand in hers. She waited, breath constricted in her chest, while their hands hovered over the hard plastic between their seats. She tried to keep any tension from her expression and let her arm go limp. She relaxed the hold of her fingers. 

After a minute of tense silence, he gave a rough sigh and turned his face away. The stiffness in his bicep slackened. Their hands relaxed onto the cool plastic divider. She fought to keep back the smug smile at the corner of her lips. 

It had taken her years to recognize how important something like this was to him. She lived most of her life on her own. Self-sufficient. Always on the go. A military life. She defined herself as a soldier, a biotic, a N7. She had passing relationships, rotating contact lists of party friends, new comrades for each assignment. She was never really alone but always lonely.

How she saw touch was different. Embracing someone, holding a hand, having an arm around her shoulder: it was only a prelude. Testing the waters. The opening strings to the main goal. Touch the hand to see if you could touch something else. 

Touch wasn’t always sexual. Drunken friends might sloppily put an arm around her and talk loudly into her ear. Comrades at a funeral would slap her back in an awkward hug that neither of them wanted but felt the situation expected of them. She try to fend them off first with the clearing of her throat or diverted eye contact. 

It wasn’t until Kaidan, she finally understood. He must have sensed it about her from the beginning. Touch was either sex or some awkward annoyance she had no need of. She wasn’t the hugging sort. The hitch in their friendship on the SR-1 following the thresher maw incident got stuck in his head. He’d move as if to touch her and pull back after her reaction from that hug. It hurt, because for the first time, she wanted it. It didn’t make sense why she cared if he squeezed her shoulder or not, but suddenly she did care.

She watched him. He’d touch Tali’s elbow to draw her attention before pointing out the bypass circuit in the control panel. He’d thump Garrus on the back after a good shot on the range. He held Liara for a long time on Noveria. Benezia lay dead in the other room. Liara was sobbing, and Kaidan held her against his chest. He rubbed her arm in a soothing motion. Shepard got so uncomfortable, she pulled up the screen on her Omni-Tool. She pretended to read it just to avoid focusing on the crying. 

It wasn’t even close friends he touched. He’d clasp a marine’s shoulder to get her attention. He’d slap another biotic between the shoulder blades to praise a good Throw. He put his arm around Ash’s mother at the funeral when her voice started to shake. Kaidan liked physical contact. Seeing him later with his mom and sister had only cemented the realization.

She realized she craved the small touches too. It meant something more than how she’d always framed it. It was what she missed now: the little things, a hand on her hip when he came up behind her. She missed the weight of his cheek tipped against the top of her head. She missed the solidness of his body warming her back. 

An invisible barrier collapsed between herself and the world. When she had Avyn, it only crumbled further. She didn't want Avyn to hold back. Avyn didn't need her insecurities. Avyn should grow up in a home where she knew she was loved. Where it was said directly to her. Where she always had open arms waiting. Where she could see her parents loved each other too, because she heard it. Saw it. That decision changed everything. Hell, she’d given Garrus a hug only days before she lost her home.

Shepard glanced down at their hands clasped together over the middle console. Ten years of marriage to him had taught her a few things. One of them was this. Physical comfort. Just something small. It wasn’t the solution to the problem. Maybe it only scratched the surface of providing comfort at all, but it was something she could give. It didn’t hurt, it was a comfort to herself too.

***

“Do we loop the block again?” Shepard ducked into a recessed courtyard hugged by two commercial buildings. A hedge with curly leaves and cloud-colored blossoms scented her face. She peeked through it at the road. 

“No one’s following.” Kaidan stood behind her.

Shepard lifted her eyes to the floral matrix of crisscrossing walkways overhead. They were empty and dark as expected for the middle of the night. The only movement was the luminescent torches that danced like fire at spaced intervals along the path. Flowering ivy spilled over the railing. The rose granite streets separating little shops and soaring high rises were too pristine and polished to have seen real ground vehicles. A fountain trickled in the courtyard at their back. Other than that, it was silent.

Across the rose-colored street was a city park. She could see her memories stirring in the shadows under the tree. Kaidan would spread the quilt. Shepard, glowing blue, would toss the frisbee. Avyn would trip over the basket of food leaping after it with her eyes glowing. Biotic fire would wisp off her skin like the bright tail of a comet. The shadows coalesced and there was nothing. It was still in the darkness under the leaves. 

A movement! Shepard snapped her face toward a motion under the trees. Deep in the canopy, masked by shadows, something had moved. A chill prickled on her skin. It was the feeling she’d had first at the station, then Eithelia’s mansion, and now. Shepard narrowed her eyes, but whatever it was had gone still.

“We’re here,” Kaidan whispered and motioned at the courtyard behind them.

“Let’s make another loop. There’s something I don’t like out there.”

“What?” Kaidan pushed in next to her and looked through the hedge. 

Silence lengthened. Shepard barely breathed. No sound. No movement. She still had that chill up her arms. It wasn’t gone, whatever it was. It was watching them.

“I don’t see anything.” Kaidan drew back from the leaves. “I haven’t seen signs of anyone following us. Three skycar changes. We’ve backtracked around these blocks twice. If you saw something earlier . . .”

“I didn’t. It’s just . . . It’s more of a feeling.”

“You think it’s those two asari?”

“No. This is something else.” Shepard touched the folded pistol in her pocket. “I haven’t seen anyone following us. I’ve had this feeling of being watched. I lost it for a while, but it’s back. All the loops and chargebacks, I can’t shake it. It’s here.”

“You think another loop will make a difference?”

Shepard drew back from the hedge with a grumble. She caught Kaidan eying her.

“It’s illogical. I realize that,” she said.

“I believe you. Do you want to loop the block again? We need to come back here though.”

Shepard scrutinized the courtyard with its fruit-laden trees and potted grasses. The fountain was an impressive centerpiece. An iron gate blocked their path, the only way into the little green area surrounded by high rises.

“Never realized banks were a top employer of gradners,” Shepard said.

“It’s not your typical bank. This is a front. There are a few of them over the city. I only have access to two gates.”

“Hmm.” Shepard squinted back at the park again. Stillness.

“We can try the other gate,” Kaidan offered. “It’s more out in the open. Whichever gate, we have to leave the way we go in.”

“Dumb rule,” Shepard grumbled.

“It’s a front. You agree to keep up appearances.”

“In case someone’s paying attention?” Shepard tugged on the fuzzy branches of vegetation hanging over the iron gate. “Let’s just go in, I guess. Anyone gives us trouble on our way out, we can beat some regret into them. Or, you can. I’m better at talking someone into regret nowadays.”

“We can give them both.” Kaidan passed around her to the metal gate. “If someone knows I’m picking up the Red Pyx-DataKey, I’d like to know how. If it was the new Shadow Broker, I would have been picked up long before now. Right off the dock probably.”

“The asari could be after something else.”

Kaidan slid a glass card out of his pocket, the key he’d retrieved from the safe. He worked it into the gate’s center slot, which on first impression looked like a fold in the metal filigree.

“What else could they want?” Kaidan asked. “The Alliance doesn’t have a big fanbase around here, and even if it did, I’m not that intimidating to approach for an autograph. Or hit with tomatoes. Wherever the current sentiment lies.”

“You know, in my time -- damn, I’m starting to sound like Javik.” Shepard followed Kaidan through the gate. “Anyway, in my other life, I spend more time in the flash of a camera than under the sun. This is actually kind of refreshing. The reversal.”

“Quite the celebrity, eh?” Kaidan sealed the gate shut behind them with a clink. “Does the Citadel sell ‘I heart Councilor Shepard’ T-shirts?”

“Right next to the one with my face exed out. Need to cater to everyone.”

Kaidan gave a wry smile. “Really? An X?”

“Tevos and Sparatus only wear theirs when I’ve really pissed them off.” Shepard smiled broadly. “No. Actually, I’m on good terms with most. Usually.”

Kaidan looped around the fountain to the wall in the back. There was a dark open-doored hallway into the building.

“Good terms with most,” Kaidan said. “What about the krogan?”

“Especially the krogan.” She fell in behind him. “Greatest buyer of the ‘I heart Shepard’ shirts in XXXXXL.” 

“Your T-Shirt sounds more modest than the person on it.” He smirked over his shoulder at her.

“Uh huh. Mr. I’m-Not-Too-Intimidating-To-Be-Approached-For-An-Autograph.”

“Or for throwing tomatoes. I said both.”

“I said I had exed out face T-shirts.” She shoved his shoulder. 

“Ha! True.”

They stopped at the end of the gloomy hallway. An elevator door accepted Kaidan’s glass key. The doors slid open.

“The Alliance liked to use my face on all the recruitment posters and billboards.” Kaidan ushered her into the little metal box. “I don’t even remember taking some of them.”

“Your eyes aren’t shut, a pillow as the background?”

Kaidan laughed and pushed the single button on the elevator’s wall. The doors slid shut.

“As long as they edit out my bedhead, then it beats a photoshoot. The only thing I ever asked PR was: please, don’t put a sparkle in my toothy grin.”

“Hero of the Terminus System?”

“Huh. Yeah. Something like that. Cicero probably uses my retired recruitment posters for darts.”

“He seems more the arson type. Burn barrel over darts. Probably has bits of missing people mixed in with the ashes.”

Kaidan looked over at her sharply. “That’s pretty dark, Shepard.”

The elevator slowed. The doors opened to a bright marble hallway of white and gold. 

“Yeah, well.” Shepard started toward the door at the end of the hall. “I’m the one who gets to bask in memories of him licking blood off his fingers.”

“What?” Kaidan grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The massacre of the batarians after the _Lomond._ Cicero egged me on. No excuse, but . . . He’s the one who suggested the eyes. He liked it. I was lost, confused. Nothing felt real. Everything spinning out of control, and he pushed it.”

Kaidan’s hand dropped from her arm, and he took a step back from her. “How do you know what she thought? You claimed time split ten years ago.”

“It was a memory. I told you that. I feel what she felt. I know her thoughts in the moment. It’s not one of my own memories, Kaidan. Nothing like that happened in my timeline.”

“How do I know that?” Kaidan’s arms crossed.

“You don’t.” Shepard studied him silently. “I can’t prove it to you, Kaidan. Anything I say can be made up, if that’s what you want to believe. I’m just telling you what I saw. Felt. It was me, but . . . Not me.”

“You’re not her, I believe that, but don’t tell me you empathize with her. The batarians were tortured to death. Murdered savagely. Bahavm was being cooperative. Would have given up names. Locations. We could have--”

“Stop.” Shepard cut through his raising voice. “I agree with you. It makes me sick. I wouldn’t make that choice. At least, I hope to God I wouldn’t. But we don’t really know, do we?”

Kaidan turned away from her with his arms still tightly folded against his chest. “I still can’t believe what I saw. You and Cicero . . . It feels like a bad dream to me too. How could something like that be real? Then I remember Illium. I remember everything that came after the _Lomond._ I wish it was only a dream.”

Shepard touched his elbow, but he stepped away from her fingers. He continued down the hall at a clipped pace. Shepard sighed and dragged her feet after him to the vault.

***

It took a series of chambers, checking passcodes and biometrics on both of them, before they were granted access into the bank. Her skin stung from the blood sample they’d taken. She still had halos in her eyes from the retina scan. Fingerprints, footprints, DNA from saliva, hair, and skin scrapings. It apparently held up. They took upper and lower teeth impressions. 

She had messed up the first passcode Kaidan taught her. She stuttered over the latin-sounded phrase of gibberish. The room burst with red light and Kaidan’s eyes ballooned, before she repeated herself quickly. The reflexive memory tests were her biggest barrier, but she was used to them for entering the Council chamber. She’d had nothing but time on the transport to Thessia to ingrain the security answers into her muscle memory. 

Once inside the final door, four armed asari, prim but lethal-looking, greeted them in a well-lit tunnel of black marble and glass chandeliers. It was a circular loop of doorways, probably where the gates from all over the city converged. Kaidan lifted his hands when they approached, and they scanned both of them with their Omni-Tools.

Shepard was taken to a side room and questioned with more pressure than most murder suspects probably received. They asked her personal questions, fortunately all related to childhood through the reaper war. Her fall into obscurity afterward apparently wasn’t worth the questioning. 

They asked her for details on obscure Alliance protocols, tried to catch her out with incorrect details about Mindoir, and sharply questioned why she was there and about her relationship with Kaidan. The curious gleam in her interrogator’s eyes told her, even before they entered the small room, that the asari knew who she was, but it took an hour of questioning to satisfy them. When they returned her to Kaidan, the guards next to him gave her slit-eyed scrutiny. The guards whispered with her interrogators.

“They’re worried you’re inducing me somehow,” Kaidan said under his breath.

Finally, they were led to the towering door in the tunnel’s central, inner wall. It was the only door she’d seen on that wall, and it was surrounded by scanners and turrets.

“Straight back,” one of the asari said. “Your security box is on the table in the middle of the room.”

“Thank you.” Kaidan motioned Shepard to follow him through the door.

The bank of lights overhead gave the sparse, metal room a bluish tint. The only item in the room was a glass table in the back. A cylindrical steel case the length of Shepard’s arm rested in the center.

“Nice operation they’ve got here.” Shepard pivoted, catching the glossy motion of her reflection in the shiny metal surrounding them. “My interrogation was sobering. I made a joke, and the tall one kicked over her chair and slapped the table in front of me.”

“Better than slapping _you_ , I guess.”

“Who said they didn’t?”

Kaidan froze. He threw a savage look over his shoulder at the door. 

“I’m joking,” Shepard said in a rush. “Not a place to joke. I’m getting that now. Go on. Get your security box.”

Kaidan pulled the glass key out. The cylindrical box glowed blue and clicked with insertion of the key. Kaidan flipped the lid back. A nail-sized red datachip was the only item inside. Kaidan snatched it out of the box and snapped the lid shut.

“Should we check what’s on it?” Shepard asked.

Kaidan motioned at the cameras around the room. “Later.”

“It’s disguised as a regular datachip?” Shepard whispered.

They returned to the vault door. The guards were waiting and eager to see them on their way. As Kaidan predicted, they were directed back to the same door where they’d entered.

***

The exit process was much easier than the entrance. It still surprised her that she and Kaidan needed to be scanned again. The elevator still required inserting the glass key to open the doors. They stepped inside.

“Think we left anyone waiting for us up there?” Shepard asked. 

“Guess we’ll find out.” Kaidan rolled the Red DataKey in between his fingers. He tucked it into a pocket.

“I appreciate you doing this for me. For the record.”

“For the record: You’re welcome.” A smile fleeted across his face but without any power behind it. He touched the DataKey in his pocket and stared at the elevator door.

The morning was still far off. It was as black in the courtyard as it had been when they came through the iron gate. Shepard touched the pistol folded against her hip and slipped down a row of planter pots to the gate. Kaidan opened it with his glass key.

“Anything?” Kaidan whispered.

He sank down beside her under the cover of the hedge. The park was as dark and shadowed as before but that feeling of cold on the back of her neck was gone. Nothing moved. The walkways were still empty overhead. There was only the distant hum of middle of the night traffic and the chorus of clicking beetle sounds from the potted grass around them.

“Where are we going now?” Shepard pulled her eyes away from the park.

“Skycar terminal. Then we can--”

“What was that?” Shepard whipped back to the street and tore out her pistol. It unfolded in her hand.

The scuffling sound cut off in the ringing silence. Shepard’s heart beat in her ears. A pistol unfolded in Kaidan’s hand. He edged to the corner of the hedge. Shepard’s brief glance around the corner of the hedge told her nothing. The street was empty. Kaidan made a longer search. Leave rustled against his face as he peered both directions.

“Kaidan, we should--” That cold feeling again. Shepard’s spine ramrodded straight at the chill spread across her skin. The dark canopy across from them suddenly felt alive again. “Kaidan . . . We should go.”

“It can’t be more than three or four,” Kaidan whispered. “There. Those shadows hiding against the storefront a block down.”

“What?” Shepard couldn’t pull her eyes away from the shadows across the street. Whatever Kaidan was seeing wasn’t what was giving her this feeling. “Forget about that. We need to go. Now.”

She tugged his wrist and spun out into the street. He grumbled and came after her. She didn’t care how it would look. She ran. Kaidan’s feet beat behind her.

“Stop!” a female voice shouted behind them.

Shepard twisted to see over her shoulder, but Kaidan bowled into her behind. A cracking boom rang around them. Rose-colored dust raised from the ground at her feet. Kaidan dragged her around the corner of a building. He drew his gun.

“They’re firing in city streets,” Kaidan said. “They’ll hit bystanders trying to pursue us. I’m stopping here.”

The street was open without any cover. There was an alley between two high rises only a few meters away. Shepard dashed for it, but Kaidan wasn’t following. He glowed blue. A barrier rippled across his skin, and he raised his pistol at the corner of the building. Waiting.

“Kiadan!” Shepard skidded back to him. “I have a bad feeling about this. Come down the alley, at least. You don’t want any civilians hurt, the alley will be better than the open street.”

Kaidan looked around at the glass store fronts and resident balconies overhead. The gunfire was sure to draw attention soon.

“Fine,” Kaidan said.

He skipped sideways with his pistol still leveled at the corner of the building. Figures wreathed in blue fire flew around the corner. There were five of them, all asari, and wearing armor. Kaidan slowed and took aim. Shepard yanked him the last few steps into the cover of the alley.

“You don’t want to shoot up town, right?” Shepard said. “Let’s just slip away. No fire exchanged.”

“We need to find out who sent them.”

“There’s something else out there. More than those five asari.”

“What do you mean?”

A bullet blew apart the polished stone by Kaidan’s feet. He lifted a glowing blue hand. The first asari around the bend ducked his biotic Throw with a well timed roll. The asari had training. She was quick. Shepard hit her with Warp, but it only made the asari’s barrier flicker. She bounced to her feet with both hands raised. The returned Warp sizzled across Shepard’s barrier. Three more asari spun around the corner already firing their pistols. Four asari total. Where was the fifth? 

The first asari, who had a pinkish tint to her blue skin, still had her eyes on Shepard. She Threw a blast of energy at her. The Reave took Shepard by surprise. The asari glowed with rippling blue chain mail. She broke Shepard’s barrier with a follow up Warp. Damn it.

The alley had nowhere to hide. Shepard rolled to the opposite wall. Shots sprayed dust behind her. One shot rang in her ears. Pain erupted through her arm in a spritz of blood. She should have put on armor before going to the bank. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Numbness spread over the pain. At least, she’d remembered her Medigel.

Shepard still had the first asari fixed on her. She was quick and missed Shepard’s Warp. Shepard’s Singularity barely made her stumble. Her barrier resisted the sphere’s pull, but it still sent her scurrying away from it.

The other three asari were focused on Shepard, too, but Kaidan got in their way. Previously, Shepard had been startled when one of her assailants knew Reave, but now, they seemed equally taken aback when Kaidan threw it at them. It stripped one of the asari’s barrier. Rather than take cover, the asari drew her Omni-blade and charged him. 

The biotic charge knocked him off his feet. She came down hard with her knife, but Kaidan’s eyes flared with energy. Instead of the blade sinking into his shoulder as planned, it turned aside on his bursting barrier. He exploded his barrier outward in a blast of biotic force. With the asari’s barrier already broken from Kaidan’s Reave, she had nothing to absorb the blast. She flew backward. His follow up Throw tipped her close enough into Shepard’s Singularity to be lifted off the ground.

“Primed,” Kaidan said and hunched down.

“Detonate.” Shepard threw a burst of biotic energy and flattened against the wall.

The biotic combo exploded. The wave of energy made Shepard stumble, but she’d braced for it. Kaidan, huddled on the ground, was equally unphased. The asari weren’t as lucky. The violet-colored asari who had been battling Shepard from the beginning fell to her knees. She got to her feet quickly enough, but the explosion flung the other two other asari fully to the ground. The asari caught in Singularity and struck by the combo lay limp against the wall. 

Kaidan didn’t pause. He reached toward the two asari on the ground and flared with biotic energy. A green mist uncurled from the ground. Shepard’s blood went cold. The two asari screamed. They scrambled over each other as the vapor lifted. Both had lost their barriers from the biotic explosion. They had nothing to protect them. Their feet stuck to the ground in the mist. 

They screamed so wildly Shepard’s stomach retracted into knots as the green vapor curled up their legs. They thrashed to pull their feet free, sobbing and screeching. It consumed their bodies. They threw their heads back, but instead of screams, green vapor came out of their mouths. The silence was deafening. Bright green light shined from their eyes. Shepard’s heart stopped.

The mist died away, and both bodies collapsed to the ground like sacks of sand. Green wisps of energy uncurled from their open mouths, eyes eternally expanded in horror, face stiff with the terror of their death. Shepard lifted her eyes to Kaidan. He dropped his hand.

Shepard didn’t have time to react. There was still the other asari. The violent-skinned asari stood stricken, shaking, and covering her mouth with both hands. She stared at Kaidan. Three asari down. One left. She was distracted. Shepard couldn’t lose this opportunity being distracted herself. Shepard drew out her Omni-blade and rushed her. 

The violet-skinned asari sprang into action. She threw Warps and Throws wildy behind her. She tripped over her feet in rapid retreat. Kaidan darted after her. He leaped over the body of the asari who had died in the biotic explosion. Or, they had both thought was dead. She slashed up at Kaidan with her Omni-blade. He stumbled and cursed. 

The asari was weak and nearly dead. Her sour smile was like poison. Shepard Threw her against the wall, and she didn’t move again. Kaidan fumbled for the wall leaving a trail of blood. Shepard rushed to him.

“I’ve got Medigel,” he said. “Follow her.”

Shepard hovered next to him.

“Go!’ He waved at the alley’s entrance.

Shepard shot to the alley’s corner and into the street. The asari was waiting for her. Shepard cursed and ducked the swinging blade. It skimmed through her hair. She was so out of practice. She hadn’t checked around the corner first.

The asari kicked her in a flash of blue light and burst of pain. Her boot hit Shepard in the chest and sent her wheeling backward. The Omni-blade came at her face, but Shepard caught the asari’s wrists with one hand. Shepard stared her in the eyes and clenched her teeth to gather the energy. 

She drove her barrier outward from where she held the asari’s wrist. The asari’s eyes expanded. The energy of Shepard’s barrier sparked and flared against the asari’s own barrier. The two barriers ground against each other. Shepard knew what she was doing. The asari couldn’t tear herself away from Shepard’s firm hold on her arm. The friction tore the asari’s barrier apart layer by layer. Shepard lifted a pistol in her other hand and aimed it at the asari’s face. The asari’s barrier shorted out. Dimmed. Ready to break.

A female screamed somewhere behind Shepard. Shepard glanced backward. A civilian stood in the street staring at them. Kaidan was in the mouth of the alley way, wobbly, bleeding, and trying to calm her. The woman dashed away toward one of the buildings.

Shepard shouldn’t have looked away. The violet-skinned asari tore her wrists free. She erupted the last dredges of frail energy left in her biotic barrier. The asari kicked her. Shepard stumbled backward with a sharp pain in leg. She meant to catch herself as she stumbled off the street’s curb, but her painful back leg gave out instead. Shepard tumbled to the street. Rather than fall on Shepard with her knife and finish the fight, the asari turned. She raced away at full sprint.

Kaidan staggered up next to Shepard, his leg bleeding, and held out his hand. The asari’s barrier was already restoring itself as she ran away. Kaidan’s Warp only flickered over it. Green mist lifted from the ground in front of her. It gave her pause, but she charged through it with a determined screech. Her barrier resisted it’s hold, unlike her companions who had lost their barriers and seemingly gotten trapped in it. 

The asari was getting too far away to be hit by biotics. Shepard got up on one leg and threw Singularity after her. It stopped embarrassingly short of her retreating form. Kaidan raised his gun, but then glanced around at the residential buildings. With a curse, he dropped it back to his side. 

“I can still reach her if . . .” Kaidan turned to Shepard.

She searched his eyes. “It won’t work.”

“Try it.”

Shepard put a palm to his chest. She focused her energy and pushed outward with Amplify. Kaidan turned back toward the retreating asari and held out his hand with spread fingers. She was nearing a street corner. Kaidan’s energy roared against Shepard’s prying tendrils. Her energy only met thickening wall. 

She closed her eyes and breathed deeper. The resistance pushed back against her touch. She strained against it. The familiar rhythm and tingle of his energy washed her senses in effervescence thrill. She pulled in sharp breath and drove deeper. Harder. Harder. She pressed against the rising ocean keeping her from that familiar taste of energy just beyond reach. His energy died away.

“She’s gone,” Kaidan said and dropped his hand.

Blue light died on his skin. The street dimmed around them in the darkness. His chest was solid against her palm but empty of the energic tingle of his biotics. Shepard pulled her hand away quickly and let her energy die away. It hadn’t worked. Just like she expected, but it was still disappointing.

“We saw five in the street earlier,” Shepard said. “Three back in the alley. That one escaped. Where’s the fifth?”

A gun barrel pressed to the back of her head. Kaidan turned, eyes exploding wide. He threw out his hand, but it was too late. The shot exploded in Shepard’s ears. The vibration echoed in her bones. It burst in her head. It rang around them. 

She wasn’t dead. 

She was still here, seeing, thinking, shaking. She drew in a choking breath.

The gun barrel pressed to the back of her head slipped away. Something fell behind her. She turned. The asari’s blank eyes stared up at her from the ground, forehead a pulpy mess, purple blood spreading across the street. The blood welled around her dropped pistol. If that shot wasn’t a bullet right against Shepard’s head, then it was too loud to be from a pistol pistol. A shadow moved at the back of the street. It stalked out of the darkness into the light.

Shepard’s breath caught. “Garrus?” 

His gaze was cold and lethal. He stopped a few meters away and lifted his rifle.

“Shepard,” he said flatly and slid his eyes to Kaidan. “Hello, Alenko.”

He aimed the gun at Kaidan’s chest. 


End file.
